He was a true humanitarian and rather ascetic than otherwise.
When Heyst met him in Delli, Morrison was walking along the street, his eyeglass tossed over his shoulder, his head down, with the hopeless aspect of those hardened tramps one sees on our roads trudging from workhouse to workhouse.

Being hailed on the street he looked up with a wild worried expression.

He was really in trouble.

He had come the week before into Delli and the Portuguese authorities, on some pretence of irregularity in his papers, had inflicted a fine upon him and had arrested his brig.
Morrison never had any spare cash in hand.

With his system of trading it would have been strange if he had; and all these debts entered in the pocketbook weren't good enough to raise a millrei on--let alone a shilling.