It was his nature to be idle,--to put off his work,--and then to be angry with himself for putting it off.
Ginger was hot in the mouth with him, and all the allurements of the world were strong upon him.

To find on Monday morning an excuse why he should not on Monday do Monday's work was, at the time, an inexpressible relief to him, but had become deep regret,--almost a remorse,--before the Monday was over.

To such a one it was not given to believe in himself with that sturdy rock-bound foundation which we see to have belonged to some men from the earliest struggles of their career.

To him, then, must have come an inexpressible pang when he was told that his story must be curtailed.
Who else would have told such a story of himself to the first acquaintance he chanced to meet?
Of Thackeray it might be predicted that he certainly would do so.

No little wound of the kind ever came to him but what he disclosed it at once.