The words came from me as if he had dragged them one by one,--
which, in fact, he did.

'Have you no home?'

'No.'

'Money?'

'No.'

'Friends?'

'No.'

'Then what sort of a clerk are you?'

I did not answer him,--I did not know what it was he wished me to
say. I was the victim of bad luck, nothing else,--I swear it.
Misfortune had followed hard upon misfortune. The firm by whom I
had been employed for years suspended payment. I obtained a
situation with one of their creditors, at a lower salary. They
reduced their staff, which entailed my going. After an interval I
obtained a temporary engagement; the occasion which required my
services passed, and I with it. After another, and a longer
interval, I again found temporary employment, the pay for which
was but a pittance. When that was over I could find nothing. That
was nine months ago, and since then I had not earned a penny. It
is so easy to grow shabby, when you are on the everlasting tramp,