Now he stretched himself at full length on the edge of his chair, his arms extended above him; now he drew up his legs, fixed his feet on the chair, and locked his hands round his knees; thus perched, he swayed his body backwards and forwards, till it seemed likely that he would pitch head foremost on to the floor.

Barfoot knew these eccentricities of old, and paid no attention to them.
'And what is the appointment you have got ?' he asked at length, dismissing his own affairs with impatience.
It was that of mathematical lecturer at a London college.
'I shall have a hundred and fifty a year, and be able to take private pupils.

On two hundred, at least, I can count, and there are possibilities I won't venture to speak of, because it doesn't do to be too hopeful.

Two hundred a year is a great advance for me.' 'Quite enough, I suppose,' said Everard kindly.
'Not--not enough.

I must make a little more somehow.' 'Hollo! Why this spirit of avarice all at once ?' The mathematician gave a shrill, cackling laugh, and rolled upon his chair.
'I must have more than two hundred.