Having been so often treated like a dog, he had come to expect such treatment, and, what was worse, but feebly to resent it.

He had lost the conscious dignity of manhood; nay, had perhaps never possessed it, for his battle had begun at so early an age.
The sense that he was wretchedly poor, and the knowledge that poverty is the mother of degradation, made him at any moment a self-convicted criminal; accused, however wrongly, it was inevitable that his face should be against him.

To go to Dagworthy with sovereigns in his hand, and this story upon his lips, would be to invite suspicion by every strongest sign of guilt.
I am representing the poor fellow's thoughts and feelings.

Whether or not Dagworthy would really entertain such a suspicion is quite another matter.

For the first time in his life, Hood had used for his own purposes money which did not belong to him; he did it under the pressure of circumstances, and had not time to reflect till the act was irrevocable.