"Well, father," he asked, "what is the upshot?
Are we ruined ?" "Ruined?
That is a large word, and an ugly one.

No, we are no more ruined than we have been for the last half-dozen years, for, thank Heaven, I still have resources and--friends.

But, of course, this place is in a way expensive, and you yourself would be the last to pretend that our burdens have been lessened by--your having abandoned the very strange profession which you selected, and devoted yourself to researches which, if interesting, must be called abstract----" "Forgive me, father," interrupted Morris with a ring of indignation in his voice; "but you must remember that I put you to no expense.

In addition to what I inherited from my mother, which, of course, under the circumstances I do not ask for, I have my fellowship, out of which I contribute something towards the cost of my living and experiments, that, by the way, I keep as low as possible." "Of course, of course," said the Colonel, who did not wish to pursue this branch of the subject, but his son went on: "You know also that it was at your express wish that I came to live here at Monksland, as for the purposes of my work it would have suited me much better to take rooms in London or some other scientific centre." "Really, my dear boy, you should control yourself," broke in his father.
"That is always the way with recluses; they cannot bear the slightest criticism.

Of course, as you were going to devote yourself to this line of research it was right and proper that we should live together.