He do talk beautiful, he does." I went on my lonely way more humbled than ever, but more determined, if possible, to recover my lost friend; yet thinking little or nothing of the greater and ever-present Friend against whom I had sinned so grievously.
But it was not to be for many days yet.
Smith always avoided me at the office in the same marked way, so that it was utterly impossible to make any advances to a reconciliation.

The idea of writing to him occurred to me more than once, but the thought that he might throw my letter into the fire unread deterred me.

No, the only thing was to bear my humiliation and wait for a chance.
Doubleday's lecture had wrought a considerable change in my habits.
Although I found it impossible all at once to give up consorting with "the usual lot," especially those of them (now not a few), to whom I owed money, I was yet a good deal more chary of my complaisance, and less influenced by their example in ordinary matters.

I succeeded, greatly to my own satisfaction and much to every one else's surprise, in making myself distinctly disagreeable on more than one occasion, which Doubleday looked upon as a very healthy sign, and which, though it involved me in a good deal of persecution at the time, did not seriously affect my position as a member of their honourable society.
How I wished I might once more call Jack Smith my friend, and cast off once for all these other shallow acquaintances! During these wretched weeks Billy became my chief comforter, for he of all people was the only one I could talk to about Jack.
I always arranged my walks by Style Street so as to pass his "place of business" after the time when I knew Jack would have left, and then eagerly drank in all the news I could hear of my lost friend.
One evening, a week after the adventure with Billy and his mother just recorded, the boy greeted me with most extraordinary and mysterious demonstrations of importance and glee.

He walked at least half a dozen times round his box on his hands before he would say a word, and then indulged in such a series of winks and grimaces as almost drove me into impatience.
"Whatever's the matter with you ?" I asked, when this performance had been going on for some time "Oh my!--ain't it a game ?" he chuckled.
"What's a game ?" I demanded.
"Why--oh, ain't you a flat, though ?--why, them there boots!" "What boots?
Why can't you talk sense ?" "Why, that there bloke's boots.