Chapter XXXIX

I was three-and-twenty years of age.

Not another word had I heard to enlighten me on the subject of my expectations, and my twenty-third birthday was a week gone.

We had left Barnard's Inn more than a year, and lived in the Temple.

Our chambers were in Garden-court, down by the river.
Mr.Pocket and I had for some time parted company as to our original relations, though we continued on the best terms.

Notwithstanding my inability to settle to anything,--which I hope arose out of the restless and incomplete tenure on which I held my means,--I had a taste for reading, and read regularly so many hours a day.