might make me useful elsewhere. I therefore called on Jackman and
Larkins at twelve o'clock, the hour at which I knew there was a
chance of finding them able to see me. During my prosperity I
always walked straight into their room marked 'private,' but now I
went into the clerks' office, took off my hat and modestly inquired
if either Mr. Jackman or Mr. Larkins could spare me a minute. I was
not asked to sit down--I, to whom these very clerks a little over a
twelvemonth ago would have risen when I entered; but my message was
taken, and I was told in reply that both Mr. Jackman and Mr. Larkins
were engaged. I was bold enough to send in another message and was
informed I might call in two hours' time. I went out, crossed
London Bridge, and seeing the doors of St. Saviour's, Southwark,
open, rested there awhile. When I returned at the end of two hours,
I had to wait another ten minutes until a luncheon tray came out. A
bell then rang, which a clerk answered, and in about five minutes,
with a 'come this way' I was ushered into the presence of Jackman,
who was reading the newspaper with a decanter and a glass of sherry
by his side.

'Well, Whittaker, what brings you here? Ought to be looking after
your grapes at Stockwell--but I forgot; heard you'd given up grape-
growing. Ah! odd thing, a man never retires, but he gets into some
mess; marries or dabbles on the Stock Exchange. I've known lots of
cases like yours. What can we do for you? Times are horribly bad.'
Jackman evidently thought I was going to borrow some money of him,
and his tone altered when he found I did not come on that errand.

'I was very sorry--really I was, my dear fellow--to hear of your
loss, but it was a damned foolish thing to do, excuse me.'