I take
my breakfast--my roll and butter, and my half-pint of coffee--at the
old-established coffee-shop near Westminster Bridge; and then I go
into the City--I don't know why--and sit in Garraway's Coffee House,
and on 'Change, and walk about, and look into a few offices and
counting-houses where some of my relations or acquaintance are so
good as to tolerate me, and where I stand by the fire if the weather
happens to be cold. I get through the day in this way until five
o'clock, and then I dine: at a cost, on the average, of one and
threepence. Having still a little money to spend on my evening's
entertainment, I look into the old-established coffee-shop as I go
home, and take my cup of tea, and perhaps my bit of toast. So, as
the large hand of the clock makes its way round to the morning hour
again, I make my way round to the Clapham Road again, and go to bed
when I get to my lodging--fire being expensive, and being objected
to by the family on account of its giving trouble and making a dirt.
Sometimes, one of my relations or acquaintances is so obliging as to
ask me to dinner. Those are holiday occasions, and then I generally
walk in the Park. I am a solitary man, and seldom walk with
anybody. Not that I am avoided because I am shabby; for I am not at
all shabby, having always a very good suit of black on (or rather
Oxford mixture, which has the appearance of black and wears much
better); but I have got into a habit of speaking low, and being
rather silent, and my spirits are not high, and I am sensible that I
am not an attractive companion.
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