And yet it made my heart sore.

Why should he be so happy and I not?
He wasn't, so I believe, a cleverer boy than I was.

Certainly he wasn't getting on better than I was, for I had now had my third rise in salary, and he still only got what he started with.

And he possessed no more friends at Beadle Square than I did.

Why ever should he always be so jolly?
I knew, though I was loth to admit it.