"How are you getting on at the bar?"
"Badly, very badly. I wish to God I had never taken up such a profession. I was never cut out for a lawyer."
"But I see your name in the papers sometimes—"
"Sometimes! but it's a struggling, miserable sort of a practice. I wish I had become a leech like you, Duncan. I might have done something then. Now, you were cut out for a barrister."
"How do you make that out?"
"Because you are steady—not a volatile ass like I am. It is this idleness, this waiting for briefs, that ruins a weak man. You see, Duncan, I'm a restless being that must be doing something, and doing it hard. I can work hard when I get the work, but when I can't get it, then I must be playing hard."
"Dissipating hard, I suppose you mean," said the doctor with a smile.
"Well, that's about it."
"You ought to have sown your wild oats by this time, my boy. To begin with, what makes you drink such a precious lot of whisky. If I had taken half as many glasses as you have to-night, I shouldn't be fit for much work to-morrow morning."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of going much too far in that line. I can foresee that my fate is rather to be driven to the dogs by the women," replied Hudson.