Oh, what poor donkeys you young men are! Here are you, with your way to make in the world, with your foot scarcely upon the bottom rung of the ladder, grubbing along on a few bob a week, and you choose to go and chuck away every chance you ever might have for a moment's folly.

A poor, pretty face I suppose.

A moonlight walk on a Bank Holiday, a little maudlin sentiment, and over you throw all your chances in life.

No wonder the herd is so great, and the leaders so few," he added, with a sneer.
The young man raised his head.

Once more the pink spot was burning.