"Not quite made your fortune, then?" he said aloud.
Gerald's only answer was an expressive shrug of the shoulders.
"When I saw you last you talked about going to the Antipodes. What has brought you back again?"
"Partly that lack of pence with which all really great men are afflicted, and partly a little private business which required my presence at home."
"You are a born Bohemian, Pomeroy--one of those incorrigibles on whom argument and advice alike are thrown away."
"Utterly thrown away--utterly; and I glory in the confession."
"And what are your prospects for the future?"
"I am happy to say that I have no prospects in particular. Never had such things in my life."
"Nor any present necessities?"
"Ah! now you touch me on a tender point."