And so on.

As I glanced my eye down this paper, my anger oozed away, and a
great feeling of pity came over me, not only at the name of Anthony
--the name I had heard spoken in the bowling-green last night--but
also to see that monstrous item of L17 odd spent on the dice. 'Twas
such a boy, too, after all, that I was angry with, that had spent
fourpence to see the rhinoceros at a fair, and rode on the ranter-
go-round (with "Marjory," no doubt, as 'twas for her, no doubt, the
silver buttons were bought). So that, with quick forgiveness, I
hurried after him, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

He stood by the entrance, counting up his money, and drew himself up
very stiff.

"I think, sir," said I, "this paper is yours."

"I thank you," he answered, taking it, and eyeing me. "Is there
anything, besides, you wished to say?"

"A great deal, maybe, if your name be Anthony."

"Master Anthony Killigrew is my name, sir; now serving under Lord
Bernard Stewart in His Majesty's troop of guards."

"And mine is Jack Marvel," said I.

"Of the Yorkshire Marvels?"