"And you don't remember Yates?—Sam Yates—and the happy days we spent together in childhood?" And the man wept again, and wiped his eyes with his coat-sleeve.
"Do you pretend to say that you are Sam Yates, the lawyer?"
"The same, at your service."
"What brought you to this?"
"Drink, and bad company, sir."
"And you want money?"
"Yes!" exclaimed the man, with a hiss as fierce as if he were a serpent.
"Do you want to earn money?"
"Anything to get it."
"Anything to get drink, I suppose. You said 'anything.' Did you mean that?"