Abbott was the man's name.

Formerly a lecturer at a provincial college, he had resigned his post on marrying, and taken to journalism.
'I want to speak to you, Rolfe,' he said hurriedly, 'but I haven't a moment to spare.

Going to Euston--could you come along for a few minutes ?' The vehicles were not damaged; Abbott's driver got quickly out of the crowd, and the two men continued their conversation.
'Do you know anything of Wager ?' inquired the journalist, with a troubled look.
'He came to see me a few evenings ago--late.' 'Ha, he did! To borrow money, wasn't it ?' 'Well, yes.' 'I thought so.

He came to me for the same.

Said he'd got a berth at Southampton.