nd plates
inside, and the sound of meat being pounded. The temptation was too
strong for me--I entered.

"A helping of beef," I say.

"One beef!" calls the waitress down through the door to the lift.

I sat down by myself at a little table next to the door, and prepared
to wait. It was somewhat dark where I was sitting, and I felt tolerably
well concealed, and set myself to have a serious think. Every now and
then the waitress glanced over at me inquiringly. My first downright
dishonesty was accomplished--my first theft. Compared to this, all my
earlier escapades were as nothing--my first great fall.... Well and
good! There was no help for it. For that matter, it was open to me to
settle it with the shopkeeper later on, on a more opportune occasion.
It need not go any farther with me. Besides that, I had not taken upon
myself to live more honourably than all the other folk; there was no
contract that....

"Do you think that beef will soon be here?"

"Yes; immediately"; the waitress opens the trapdoor, and looks down
into the kitchen.

But suppose the affair did crop up some day? If the shop-boy were to
get suspicious and begin to think over the transaction about the bread,
and the florin of which the woman got the change? It was not impossible
that he would discover it some day, perhaps the next time I went there.
Well, then, Lord!... I shrugged my shoulders unobserved.

"If you please," says the waitress, kindly placing the beef on the
table, "wouldn't you rather go to another compartment, it's so dark
here?"

"No, thanks; just let me be here," I reply; her kindliness touches me
at once. I pay for the beef on the spot, put whatever change remains
into her hand, close her fingers over it. She smiles, and I say in fun,
with the tears near my ears, "There, you're to have the balance to buy
yourself a farm.... Ah, you're very welcome to it."

I commenced to eat, got more and more greedy I as I did so, swallowed
whole pieces without chewing them, enjoyed myself in an animal-like way
at every mouthful, and tore at the meat like a cannibal.

The waitress came over to me again.

"Will you have anything to drink?" she asks, bending down a little
towards me. I looked at her. She spoke very low, almost shyly, and
dropped her eyes. "I mean a glass of ale, or whatever you like best ...
from me ... without ... that is, if you will...."

"No; many thanks," I answer. "Not now; I shall come back another time."

She dre