Last Saturday, I was sitting on a bench in the town centre eating my lunch when I noticed a brown leather wallet on the ground. I picked it up and looked inside. There were also some photos and a library card with a name on it: Robert Jennings.
I wasn't sure what to do at first. I thought about handing it in to the police station, but it was on the other side of town and I didn't have much time. His address was on the back of the library card, and it turned out he lived just two streets away from where I was sitting.
I walked to the address and knocked on the door. An elderly man opened it and looked at me with a confused expression. His face changed completely. He smiled broadly and invited me inside for a cup of tea.
Over tea, Robert told me he had lost the wallet that morning while shopping at the market. He had searched everywhere but had given up hope of finding it. He said the money didn't matter to him nearly as much as the photographs inside, which were of his late wife.
Before I left, Robert thanked me several times and tried to give me some money as a reward. He shook my hand and said something I will never forget: 'There are still good people in this world.' I walked home that afternoon feeling happier than I had in a long time.
Options (8 for 5 gaps — some are not used)
1I politely refused and told him that I was just glad I could help
2I thought about keeping the money and throwing the wallet away
3When I explained who I was and held up the wallet, he could hardly believe it
4Instead, I decided to try to return it to the owner myself
5The wallet was very old and damaged, with a broken zip
6It contained quite a lot of cash, at least sixty or seventy pounds
7Robert had reported the wallet stolen to the police earlier that day
8He had not even noticed it had fallen out of his coat pocket