. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. “I shall be waiting for you there, and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like that. "Will that do?" he added, returning it. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied. No: I must face it out. I am shockingly poor. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards.
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