'This Literature is to be your profession for the means of living ?' 'Nothing else.

And I'm so low down in the market way of it, that I could not count on twenty pounds per annum.

Fifty would give me standing, an independent fifty.' 'To whom are you crying, Gower ?' 'Not to gamble, you may be sure.' 'You have a home.' 'Good work of the head wants an easy conscience.

I've too much of you in me for a comfortable pensioner.' 'Or is it not, that you have been living the gentleman out there, with just a holiday title to it ?' Gower was hit by his father's thrust.

'I shall feel myself a pieman's chuckpenny as long as I'm unproductive, now I 've come back and have to own to a home,' he said.
Tea brought in by Mrs.Mary Jones rather brightened him until he considered that the enlivenment was due to a purchase by money, of which he was incapable, and he rejected it, like an honourable man.
Simultaneously, the state of depression threw critic shades on a prized sentence or two among his recent confections.