He could not himself open it, but he did not doubt that the man
in the shop would do that for him.
Not for many more moments would he be left alone. His hat was lying on
the table; he seized that and his money-box, and was out on the landing.
The rest is _his_ story. I cannot, as I have already said, vouch for the
truth of it. At first, fortune was on his side. There seemed to be no
one about the house. He went down the wide staircase without making any
sound; in the hall he stopped for a moment because he heard voices, but
no one came. Then with both hands, and standing on tiptoe, he turned the
lock of the door, and was outside.
The Square was bathed in golden sun, a sun, the stronger for his
concealment, but tempered, too, with the fine gleam that the rain had
left. Never before had Bim been outside that door alone; he was aware
that this was a very tremendous adventure. The sky was a washed and
delicate purple, and behold! on the high railings, a row of sparrows
were chattering. Voices were cold and clear, echoing, as it seemed,
against the straight, grey walls of the houses, and all the trees in the
garden glistened with their wet leaves shining with gold; there seemed
to be, too, a dim veil of smoke that was homely and comfortable.
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