CHAPTER III.
THE CHINA SHOP Mr.Gammon took his way down Kennington Road, walking at a leisurely pace, smiting his leg with his doubled dog-whip, and looking about him with his usual wideawake, contented air.

He had in perfection the art of living for the moment, no art in his case, but a natural characteristic, for which it never occurred to him to be grateful.
Indeed, it is a common characteristic in the world to which Mr.Gammon belonged.

He and his like take what the heavens send them, grumbling or rejoicing, but never reflecting upon their place in the sum of things.
To Mr.Gammon life was a wonderfully simple matter.

He had his worries and his desires, but so long as he suffered neither from headache nor stomach-ache, these things interfered not at all with his enjoyment of a fine morning.
He was in no hurry to make for Dulwich; as he walked along his thoughts began to turn in a different direction, and on reaching the end of Upper Kennington Lane he settled the matter by striking towards Vauxhall Station.

A short railway journey and another pleasant saunter brought him to a street off Battersea Park Road, and to a china shop, over which stood the name of Clover.
In the window hung a card with an inscription in bold letters: "Glass, china, and every kind of fashionable ornament for the table for hire on moderate terms." Mr.Gammon read this with an appreciative smile, which, accompanied by a nod, became a greeting to Mrs.Clover, who was aware of him from within the shop.