“Work stopped?”

“No, a strike—I wouldn’t quit, and they fired me.”

“What happened then?”

“She went away.”

“Who went away?”

“My wife.”

“When?”

“About a month back.”

“Did you beat her?”

“No, there was another man.”

“Younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“How old was she?”

“Eighteen.”

“A girl, then.”

“Yes, if you put it that way. She was all I had.”

“Have you seen her since?”

“No, and I don’t want to.”

These questions and answers had followed in rapid succession, Felix searching for the truth and the man trying to give it as best he could.

With the last answer the man drew a step nearer and, in a voice which was fast getting beyond his control, said: “You know now, don’t you? You can see it plain as day how long it takes to make a bum of a man when he’s up agin things like that. You—” He paused, listened intently, and sprang back, hugging the wall. “What’s that? Somebody comin’! My God! It’s a cop! Don’t tell him—say you won’t tell him—say it! SAY IT!”

Felix gripped his wrist. “Pull yourself together and keep still.”

The officer,