Steps further on, he encountered a man who looked like a lawyer or a doctor, who was definitely wearing a pair of black leather gloves, but wouldn't it be embarrassing to ask, "Are you wearing my gloves?" On second thought, George decided that anybody who wanted to keep his gloves wouldn't be so foolish as to wear them right inside the store. So he started to look at people's bulging pockets instead, but before long, he found bulging pockets were too hard to detect. Most of them were stuffed with scarves, books, hats and caps , not necessarily gloves. "I am no detective," he admitted to himself, and headed dejectedly towards the exit.

　　On his way out, he went over to the cashier to ask if she had received any lost gloves, but she said no. Then he went to the manager's office to make the same inquiry. She asked him what colour they were, and when he said "black", there came another disappointing answer. Such a pair of expensive gloves, who would give them up? He took his time now, finally waddling out of the store.

　　It was freezing cold, perhaps zero degrees Fahrenheit. Without his warm gloves, he had to shrink his hands into his sleeves. It was only a seven-minute walk home, and when he was one house before his own door, he shivered so badly that a bus driver passing by made a special stop and offered to let him get on. Old George was too cold to say anything, and could only raise his trembling hand to make a gesture of thanks and refusal.

　　Back home, George was at a loss. In deep winter, he could not do without a pair of gloves. If he bought cheap ones again, he would have to replace them very soon. If he bought a new leather pair, they would cost fifty dollars now. He was very upset that people no longer returned things they found on the road.

　　After the holiday, poor George decided to buy another leather pair. Before boarding the subway, he stepped into Value Mart again to see if by any chance his gloves had been returned to the lost and found office. "What colour are they?" the woman in the office asked again. "Black," he gave the same answer. She looked into her drawer and drew out a pair of men's leather gloves. "Are they??"

　　"Yes! Those are mine!" George exclaimed, his eyes glowing with joy.