There was a brief silence. The conversational opening had been a little unfortunately chosen, for it reminded both men of a painful episode in their recent lives.
"What are you doing here?" asked Eustace.
"What are you doing here?" asked Sam.
"I came to see you," said Eustace, leading his cousin out of the lobby and onto the bleak esplanade. A fine rain had begun to fall, and Bingley looked, if possible, worse than ever. "I asked for you at your club, and they told me you had come down here."
"What did you want to see me about?"
"The fact is, old man, I'm in a bit of a hole."
"What's the matter?"
"It's rather a long story," said Eustace deprecatingly.
"Go ahead."
"I don't know where to begin."