Why, even _I_ knew more about money than he did, and could reckon that if I brought thirteen shillings up at the beginning of the term, I should have just a shilling a week to bless myself with till break-up.

Whereas he, I verily believe, would consider that he had thirteen shillings a week.

And the worst of it was he would never let any one know how hard up he was, or tolerate any remarks, except from a privileged chum like Pridgin, on the subject.
As I joined my comrades in the faggery, in the fond hope of snatching a precious quarter of an hour for my neglected studies, I found great excitement and jubilation afoot.

The printer had sent home the handbills of the Conversation Club.
"That ought to do our business," said Langrish, flourishing one of the documents in my face.
I took it, and read it with mingled pride and concern.

It ran as follows:-- Under the distinguished Patronage of the Nobility and Gentry of Low Heath: *A Philosophical Conversation Club* has been started for conversation on Philosophy, Picnics, and Cross-country Runs.