"So you are come, and punctually," said Egerton, linking his arm in Harley's.
Harley.—"Punctually, of course, for I respect your time, and I will not detain you long. I presume you will speak to-night."
Egerton.—"I have spoken."
Harley, (with interest.)—"And well, I hope."
Egerton.—"With effect, I suppose, for I have been loudly cheered, which does not always happen to me."
Harley.—"And that gave you pleasure?"
Egerton, (after a moment's thought.)—"No, not the least."
Harley.—"What, then, attaches you so much to this life—constant drudgery, constant warfare—the more pleasurable faculties dormant, all the harsher ones aroused, if even its rewards (and I take the best of those to be applause) do not please you?"
Egerton.—"What?—custom."
Harley.—"Martyr!"