It was ten to one against, the owner of the same having enough change in his pockets to get his tiffin here.

But he had.

Most likely had rooked somebody of a few dollars at cards overnight.

He was a bright creature of the name of Fector, a spare, short, jumpy fellow with a red face and muddy eyes.

He described himself as a journalist, as certain kind of women give themselves out as actresses in the dock of a police-court.
"He used to introduce himself to strangers as a man with a mission to track out abuses and fight them whenever found.