'To the pleasure of seeing Monsieur again.' The courtyard gate shut, and Dick hurried up the sandy street to the nearest gambling-hell, where he was well known.

'If the luck holds, it's an omen; if I lose, I must stay here.' He placed his money picturesquely about the board, hardly daring to look at what he did.

The luck held.
Three turns of the wheel left him richer by twenty pounds, and he went down to the shipping to make friends with the captain of a decayed cargo-steamer, who landed him in London with fewer pounds in his pocket than he cared to think about.
A thin gray fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.
'It's a cheerful wilderness, and it hasn't the knack of altering much,' Dick thought, as he tramped from the Docks westward.

'Now, what must I do ?' The packed houses gave no answer.

Dick looked down the long lightless streets and at the appalling rush of traffic.