Never since he was a boy could Alan remember feeling so utterly light-hearted and free from anxiety.

Not for a million pounds would he have returned to gather gold in that mausoleum of reputations.

As for the future, he did not in the least care what happened.

There was no one dependent on him, and in this way or in that he could always earn a crust, a nice, honest crust.
He ran down the street and danced for joy like a child, yes, and presented a crossing-sweeper against whom he butted with a whole sixpence in compensation.

Thus he reached the Mansion House, not unsuspected of inebriety by the police, and clambered to the top of a bus crowded with weary and anxious-looking City clerks returning home after a long day's labour at starvation wage.