{"product_id":"2940013740495","title":"The Brigand","description":"Anthony Newton was a soldier at eighteen; at twenty-eight he was a\u003cbr\u003ebeggar of favours, a patient waiter in outer offices, a more or less meek\u003cbr\u003erespondent to questionnaires which bore a remarkable resemblance one to\u003cbr\u003ethe other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'What experience have you?'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'What salary would you require?'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere were six other questions, all more or less unimportant, but all\u003cbr\u003edesigned to prove that a Public School education and a record of minor\u003cbr\u003eheroisms were poor or no qualification for any job that produced a living\u003cbr\u003ewage and the minimum of interest, unless the applicant was in a position\u003cbr\u003eto deposit fabulous sums for the purchase of partnerships, secretaryships\u003cbr\u003eand agencies.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd invariably:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'I am afraid, Mr Newton, we haven't a place for you at the moment, but if\u003cbr\u003eyou will leave your address, we will communicate with you just as soon as\u003cbr\u003esomething comes along.'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTony Newton struggled through eight years of odd jobs. His gratuity had\u003cbr\u003ebeen absorbed in a poultry farm which as everybody knows, is a very\u003cbr\u003esimple method of making money. In theory. And at the end of the eighth\u003cbr\u003eyear he discussed the situation with himself and soberly elected for\u003cbr\u003ebrigandage of a safe and more or less unobjectionable variety. His final\u003cbr\u003edecision was taken on a certain morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMrs Cranboyle, his landlady, presented a bill and an ultimatum. The bill\u003cbr\u003ewas familiar--the ultimatum, not altogether unexpected, was both novel\u003cbr\u003eand alarming.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe looked at his landlady thoughtfully, and his good-looking face wore\u003cbr\u003ean unaccustomed expression of doubt. As for Mrs Cranboyle, a solid, stout\u003cbr\u003ewoman with a flinty eye and a large, determined chin, she was very\u003cbr\u003edefinitely beyond any kind of doubt whatever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnthony heaved a sigh, and his gaze wandered from his landlady's face to\u003cbr\u003ethe various features of his small and comfortless room. From the knobbly\u003cbr\u003ebed to the 'What is home without a mother?' (a masterpiece of German\u003cbr\u003elithographic art) above the bed board, to the 'All we like sheep have\u003cbr\u003egone astray' above the mantelpiece, to the two china dogs thereon, to the\u003cbr\u003eskimpy little hearth-rug before the polished and fireless grate, and\u003cbr\u003ethen back to Mrs Cranboyle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'You can't expect me to keep you, Mr Newton,' she said significantly, not\u003cbr\u003efor the first time that morning.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Hush,' said Anthony testily. 'I am thinking.'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMrs Cranboyle shivered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'I have worked very hard for all I've got,' she went on, 'and a young man\u003cbr\u003elike you should know better than to impose upon a widow who doesn't know\u003cbr\u003ewhere her next pound is coming from--'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'You've got seven hundred and fifty pounds in Government Bonds, two\u003cbr\u003ehundred and fifty in the Post Office, and a deposit account at the London\u003cbr\u003eand Manchester Bank of nearly five hundred pounds,' said Anthony calmly,\u003cbr\u003eand Mrs Cranboyle gasped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'What--how--' she stammered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'I was looking through your passbook,' explained Anthony without shame.\u003cbr\u003e'You left it in the drawing-room one day, and I spent a very pleasant\u003cbr\u003eafternoon examining it.'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor a moment Mrs Cranboyle was incapable of speech.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Well, you've got a cheek!' she gasped at last. 'And that settles it! You\u003cbr\u003eleave my house today.'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Very good,' said Anthony with a shrug. 'I'll go along and find other\u003cbr\u003erooms, and I'll send a man for my luggage.'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Send the six weeks' rent you owe,' said Mrs Cranboyle, 'or don't trouble\u003cbr\u003eto send at all. If you think I'm going to keep a house open for a\u003cbr\u003egambling, good-for-nothing--'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnthony raised his hand with some dignity.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'You are speaking to one of your country's defenders,' he said, loftily,\u003cbr\u003e'one who has endured the terrific strain of war, one who, whilst you\u003cbr\u003eslept snug in your bed, was dithering through the snow, the sleet, the\u003cbr\u003eslush, the fog and the gunfire. Always remember that, Mrs Cranboyle. You\u003cbr\u003ecan't be sufficiently thankful to men like me.' He glared at her. 'Where\u003cbr\u003ewould you be if the Germans had won?'\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMrs Cranboyle was quite incapable of speech. She wanted to remind him,\u003cbr\u003efor the third time, of the manner in which he had wasted his substance,\u003cbr\u003ebut he saved her the trouble.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47070258757872,"sku":"2940013740495","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013740495_p0.jpg?v=1763589627","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013740495","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}