Chapter Twenty-Four (Not from Captain Hastings'Personal Narrative)


          Below his breath Mr Leadbetter uttered a grunt of impatience as
     his
     next-door neighbour got up and stumbled clumsily past him，dropping
     his hat
     over the seat in front，and leaning over to retrieve it.
         All this at the culminating moment of Not a Sparrow，that
     all-star，
     thrilling drama of pathos and beauty that Mr Leadbetter had been
     looking
     forward to seeing for a whole week.
         The golden-haired heroine，played by Katherine Royal (in Mr
     Leadbetter's
     opinion the leading film actress in the world)，was just giving vent
     to a
     hoarse cry of indignation:
         "Never.I would sooner starve.But I shan't starve.Remember those
     words:
         not a sparrow falls-"Mr Leadbetter moved his head irritably from
     right
     to left.People!Why on earth people couldn't wait till the end of a
     film......And to leave at this soul-stirring moment.
         Ah，that was better.The annoying gentleman had passed on and
     out.Mr
     Leadbetter had a full view of the screen and of Katherine Royal
     standing by
     the window in the Van Schreiner Mansion in New York.
         And now she was boarding the train-the child in her arms......What
     curious trains they had in America-not at all like English trains.
         Ah，there was Steve again in his shack in the mountains......
         The film pursued its course to its emotional and semi-religious
     end.
         Mr Leadbetter breathed a sigh of satisfaction as the lights went
     up.
         He rose slowly to his feet，blinking a little.
         He never left the cinema very quickly.It always took him a moment
     or two
     to return to the prosaic reality of everyday life.
         He glanced round.Not many people this afternoon-naturally.They
     were all
     at the races.Mr Leadbetter did not approve of racing nor of playing
     cards
     nor of drinking nor of smoking.This left him more energy to enjoy
     going to
     the pictures.
         Everyone was hurrying towards the exit.Mr Leadbetter prepared to
     follow
     suit.The man in the seat in front of him was asleep-slumped down in
     his
     chair.Mr Leadbetter felt indignant to think that anyone could sleep
     with
     such a drama as Not a Sparrow going on.
         An irate gentleman was saying to the sleeping man whose legs were
     stretched out blocking the way:
         "Excuse me，sir."
         Mr Leadbetter reached the exit.He looked back.
         There seemed to be some sort of commotion.A comissionaire......a
     little
     knot of people......Perhaps that man in front of him was dead drunk
     and not
     asleep......
         He hesitated and then passed out-and in so doing missed the
     sensation of
     the day-a greater sensation even than Not Half winning the St Legar at
     85to
     !"
         The commissionaire was saying:
         "Believe you're right，sir......He's ill......Why-what's the
     matter，
     sir?"
         The other had drawn away his hand with an exclamation and was
     examining
     a red sticky smear.
         "Blood......"
         The commissionaire gave a stifled exclamation.
         He had caught sight of the corner of something yellow projecting
     from
     under the seat.
         "Got blimey!"he said."It's a b-A B C."

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