Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/801

 A Man of Genius

(From "The New Grub Street")

(A novel portraying the lives of the innumerable hack-writers who starve in the garrets of modern London. See page 104)

His name was Harold Biffen, and, to judge from his appearance, he did not belong to the race of common mortals. His excessive meagerness would all but have qualified him to enter an exhibition in the capacity of living skeleton, and the garments which hung upon this framework would perhaps have sold for three and sixpence at an old-clothes dealer's. But the man was superior to these accidents of flesh and raiment. He had a fine face: large, gentle eyes, nose slightly aquiline, small and delicate mouth. Thick black hair fell to his coat-collar; he wore a heavy moustache and a full beard. In his gait there was a singular dignity; only a man of cultivated mind and grateful character could move and stand as he did.

His first act on entering the room was to take from his pocket a pipe, a pouch, a little tobacco-stopper, and a box of matches, all of which he arranged carefully on a corner of the central table. Then he drew forward a chair and seated himself.

"Take your top-coat off," said Reardon.

"Thanks, not this evening."

"Why the deuce not?"

"Not this evening, thanks."

The reason, as soon as Reardon sought for it, was obvious. Biffen had no ordinary coat beneath the other. To have referred to this fact would have been indelicate;