Till last night I'd have thought there
was nothing in here at all.

COKESON. [Concerned] You've not got heart disease?

FALDER. Oh! they passed me sound enough.

COKESON. But they got you a place, didn't they?

FALSER. Yes; very good people, knew all about it--very kind to me.
I thought I was going to get on first rate. But one day, all of a
sudden, the other clerks got wind of it.... I couldn't stick it, Mr.
COKESON, I couldn't, sir.

COKESON. Easy, my dear fellow, easy!

FALDER. I had one small job after that, but it didn't last.

COKESON. How was that?

FALDER. It's no good deceiving you, Mr. Cokeson. The fact is, I
seem to be struggling against a thing that's all round me. I can't
explain it: it's as if I was in a net; as fast as I cut it here, it
grows up there. I didn't act as I ought to have, about references;
but what are you to do? You must have them. And that made me
afraid, and I left. In fact, I'm--I'm afraid all the time now.

He bows his head and leans dejectedly silent over the table.

COKESON. I feel for you--I do really. Aren't your sisters going to
do anything for you?

FALDER. One's in consumption. And the other----

COKESON. Ye...es. She told me her husband wasn't quite pleased with
you.

FALDER. When I went there--they were at supper--my sister wanted to
give me a kiss--I know. But he just looked at her, and said: "What
have you come for?" Well, I pocketed my pride and I said: "Aren't
you going to give me your hand, Jim? Cis is, I know," I said. "Look
here!" he said, "that's all very well, but we'd better come to an
understanding. I've been expecting you, and I've made up my mind.
I'll give you fifteen pounds to go to Canada with." "I see," I
said--"good riddance! No, thanks; keep your fifteen pounds."
Friendship's a queer thing when you've been where I have.

COKESON. I understand. Will you take the fifteen pound from me?
[Flustered, as FALDER regards him with a queer smile] Quite without
prejudice; I meant it kindly.

FALDER. I'm not allowed to leave the country.

COKESON. Oh! ye...es--ticket-of-leave? You aren't looking the
thing.

FALDER. I've slept in the Park three nights this week. The dawns
aren't all poetry there. But meeting her--I feel a different man
this morning. I've often thought the being fond of hers the best
thing about me; it's sacred, somehow--and yet it did for me. That's
queer, isn't it?

COKESON. I'm sure