CHAPTER VII.
Mr. William Wyvern In Meath Street.
I.
George spent the night--such of it as remained after his bitter
moanings outside his Mary's lodging--with the Mr. Franklyn who had
accompanied him on that little "stroll up west" that had terminated in
the cab adventure nearly three months before. Of all his student
friends who would give him a bed, Mr. Franklyn, because in a way
associated with his Mary, had come most prominently into his mind.
That same association gave him a lead from which to pour out his reply
to Mr. Franklyn's rallying, as they sat at supper, upon his gloom.
"You remember that day after the July exam, when we went up west
together?" he began.
Mr. Franklyn remembered; in some gloom shook his head over the
recollection. "That waitress you left me with in the shop," said Mr.
Franklyn sadly, "she--"
"Oh, hang the waitress! Listen, Franklyn, After I left you I turned up
past the Marble Arch--" He proceeded with some account of the love
between him and his Mary; skipped all details relating to the cat;
came to the impending marriage; sought advice upon the prospects of a
man marrying on a locum's earnings.
Mr. Franklyn listened with great sympathy. "It's a rum thing you
should be placed like that, George," he said. "I'm in just the same
position.
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