XLVI 
  
A LOST HALO 
  
  
“HULLO! are you here, my dear fellow?—
You, in a house of ill repute; you who dis-
dained all drink but the Quintessance, all is 
matter for surprise in this.” 
“My dear boy, you know how horses and 
carriages frighten me; just now, as I was 
crossing the street in a great hurry, tip-toeing 
in the mud, across the moving chaos where 
Death arrives at a gallop from every side at 
once, my halo, in the course of a sharp move-
ment, slipped from my hand into the mire of 
the street. I had not the courage to pick it up. 
I thought it less unpleasant to lose my decora-
tions than to break my bones. And then I said 
to myself—’Every cloud has a silver lining; I 
shall now be able to walk about incognito; to 
do degrading things, give myself up to vice like 
mere mortals.’—And here I am, just like your-
self, as you see.” 
“You might at least have offered a reward 
for your halo, or reported its loss at the Police-
station!”