One has to buy experience. It's no good saying that I
ought to have been guided by you five years ago. Of course I wish I
had been, but it wasn't possible. The question is, do you care to
help me now?"
"What's your idea?" asked Abraham, playing with his watch-guard, a
smile as of inward triumph flitting about his lips.
"I have none. I only know that I've been half-starved for years in
the cursed business of teaching, and that I can't stand it any
longer. I want some kind of occupation that will allow me to have
three good meals every day, and leave me my evenings free. That
isn't asking much, I imagine; most men manage to find it. I don't
care what the work is, not a bit. If it's of a kind which gives a
prospect of getting on, all the better; if that's out of the
question, well, three good meals and a roof shall suffice."
"You're turning out a devilish sensible lad, Osmond," said Mr.
Woodstock, still smiling. "Better late than never, as they say. But
I don't see what you can do. You literary chaps get into the way of
thinking that any fool can make a man of business, and that it's
only a matter of condescending to turn your hands to desk work and
the ways clear before you.
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