What should he do?
There seemed but one answer to this question. He must go back to
Mr. Preston, explain the manner in which he had lost his shirt,
and ask him for another, promising, of course, to supply the
place of the one lost. He was not sure whether Mr. Preston would
accept this explanation. He might think it was only an attempt
to defraud him. But, at any rate, it seemed the only thing to
do, and it must be done at once. He entered a passing car, for
it was too late to walk.
"I wish I had taken the car down," thought Paul. "Then I
shouldn't have lost the shirt."
But it was too late for regrets now. He must do the best that
remained to him.
It was nearly ten o'clock when Paul once more stood before the
door of Mr. Preston's boarding-place. He rang the bell and asked
to see him.
"You have been here before this evening?" said the servant.
"Yes."
"Then you know the room. You can walk right up."
Paul went upstairs and knocked at Mr. Preston's room. He was
bidden to come in, and did so.
Mr. Preston looked up with surprise.
"I suppose you are surprised to see me," said Paul, rather
awkwardly.
"Why, yes. I did not anticipate that pleasure quite so soon,"
said Mr.
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