CHAPTER IX.
The life of the Bohemian in London is no brilliantly coloured affair.
The most that can be said for it is that it has its moments.

The first flush of a full purse and the last despair of an empty pocket are always sensations that are worth while.

With the one you can gauge the shallow depth of pleasure and find the world full of friends; with the other you can learn how superfluous are the things you called necessities and you may count upon the fingers of your hand the number of friends whom really you possess.

In their way, these moments are true values--both of them.
But the life of the Bohemian, wherever it may be, has one advantage that no other life possesses.

It is a series of contrasts.