-denial; he could hardly begin now.

At length Saturday morning had come, and while he was dressing he
realized that he could not look forward to any unusual dinner the next
day at noon. The disappointment had all the force of an unexpected
disaster and he began keenly to regret his weakness of the past week.
Suddenly Vandover resolved that he would go without food all that day;
it would be a saving of fifteen cents, which, added to the five cents
that he would spend anyway for his dinner, would almost make a quarter.
He knew where he could dine excellently well for twenty cents. However,
he could not make up his mind to go without his Sunday morning's
breakfast. That, he told himself, he must eat.

Once dressed, Vandover went out. Fortunately, the rain had stopped. He
went on down through the reeking, steaming streets to one of the big
fruit markets not far from the water front. The Portuguese fruit vender
who roomed next to him at the Reno House was employed at a stall here.
Vandover knew him a little, and it was not hard for him to get a thin
slice of cocoanut out from the inside rind of one of those that were
lying cracked open among his other wares.

All the morning Vandover chewed this slice of cocoanut, at the same time
drinking a great deal of water; for hours he deadened the pang of hunger
by this means. He passed the time for the most part sitting on the
benches in the Plaza reading an old newspaper that he had found under a
seat. The sun came out a little; Vandover found the warmth very
grateful. He told himself that he could easily hold out until the next
morning.

He had forgotten about the time and was surprised when the whistles all
over the town began to blow for noon. In an instant Vandover was hungry
again. It was all one that he chewed the little pulp of cocoanut rind
more vigorously than ever, swallowed great draughts of water at the
public fountains; the little gnawing just between his chest and his
stomach began to persist. He got up and began to walk. He left the Plaza
behind him, crossed Kearney Street and went on down Clay Street till he
reached the water front. For a time he found a certain diversion among
the shipping and especially in watching a gang of caulkers knocking away
at the seams of an immense coal steamer. He sat upon a great iron
clamped pile, spitting into the yellow water below. The air was full of
the smell of bilge and oakum and fish; the thousands of masts made a
gray maze