All the long glowing days on the hot stones of the water-side, the glitter of the Mediterranean purple-blue under the sun, the coming of night and the sudden twinkling of lights in the cave-dwellings above Almeria and across the bay from Aguilas, the plunge into the warm sea at midnight, the glorious evenings at water-side cafes when he had half a dozen coppers in his pocket; the good nature of the people! All these recollections swept back on him in a rush.

The actual hardships, the hunger, the biting winds of January under a steel-cold sky, these things were all forgotten.

He remembered the freedom.
"There weren't any hours to the day," he cried, and spoke the creed of all the wanderers in the world.

"I saw the finest bull-fights in the world, and made money out of them by selling dulces and membrilla and almond rock from Alicante.

Oh, the life wasn't so bad.