"As it becomes one of my sort."
"One hundred guineas! It's a bagatelle."
"What keeps you for a minute, keeps us for a year. That's the advantage of the poor."
"Thou shalt have the place."
A week afterwards, thanks to Josiana's exertions, thanks to the influence of Lord David Dirry-Moir, Barkilphedro—safe thenceforward, drawn out of his precarious existence, lodged, and boarded, with a salary of a hundred guineas—was installed at the Admiralty.
CHAPTER VII.
BARKILPHEDRO GNAWS HIS WAY.
There is one thing the most pressing of all: to be ungrateful.
Barkilphedro was not wanting therein.