"And as for him, what right has he to think of any girl? He's a poor mean creature, without the means of getting so much as a bed for a wife to lie on. He used to talk so proud of Her Majesty's Civil Service. Her Majesty's Civil Service has sent him away packing."
"Not yet, Daniel."
"They have. I've made it my business to find out, and Sir Boreas Bodkin has written the order to-day. 'Dismissal—B. B.' I know those who have seen the very words written in the punishment book of the Post Office."
"Poor Sam!"
"Destroying papers of the utmost importance about Her Majesty's Mail Service! What else was he to expect? And now he's penniless."
"A hundred and twenty isn't so very much, Daniel."
"Mr. Fay was saying only the other day that if I was married and settled they'd make it better for me."
"You're too fond of The Duchess, Daniel."
"No, Clara—no; I deny that. You ask Mrs. Grimley why it is I come to The Duchess so often. It isn't for anything that I take there."
"Oh; I didn't know. Young men when they frequent those places generally do take something."