But I wouldn't take that, General Triscoe," said Burnamy.
General Triscoe, from his 'lit de justice', passed this point in silence.

"Have you any one dependent on you ?" "My mother; I take care of my mother," answered Burnamy, proudly.
"Since you have broken with Stoller, what are your prospects ?" "I have none." "Then you don't expect to support my daughter; you expect to live upon her means." "I expect to do nothing of the kind!" cried Burnamy.

"I should be ashamed--I should feel disgraced--I should--I don't ask you--I don't ask her till I have the means to support her--" "If you were very fortunate," continued the general, unmoved by the young fellow's pain, and unperturbed by the fact that he had himself lived upon his wife's means as long as she lived, and then upon his daughter's, "if you went back to Stoller--" "I wouldn't go back to him.

I don't say he's knowingly a rascal, but he's ignorantly a rascal, and he proposed a rascally thing to me.

I behaved badly to him, and I'd give anything to undo the wrong I let him do himself; but I'll never go back to him." "If you went back, on your old salary," the general persisted pitilessly, "you would be very fortunate if you brought your earnings up to twenty-five hundred a year." "Yes--" "And how far do you think that would go in supporting my daughter on the scale she is used to?
I don't speak of your mother, who has the first claim upon you." Burnamy sat dumb; and his head which he had lifted indignantly when the question was of Stoller, began to sink.
The general went on.