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Updated: June 28, 2025
Whelpdale's a clever fellow, but he can't hit a practical line. 'Like some other people I have heard of; said Reardon, laughing. 'But the odd thing is, that he always strikes one as practical-minded. Don't you feel that, Mrs Reardon? He and Amy talked for a few minutes, and Reardon, seemingly lost in meditation, now and then observed them from the corner of his eye.
How his days passed he could not have said. One evening in early autumn, as he stood before the book-stall at the end of Goodge Street, a familiar voice accosted him. It was Whelpdale's. A month or two ago he had stubbornly refused an invitation to dine with Whelpdale and other acquaintances you remember what the occasion was and since then the prosperous young man had not crossed his path.
'Surely these poor, silly people oughtn't to be encouraged in their weakness. Whelpdale's countenance fell. He looked ashamed of himself. But Jasper came speedily to the rescue. 'That's twaddle, Dora. Fools will be fools to the world's end. Answer a fool according to his folly; supply a simpleton with the reading he craves, if it will put money in your pocket.
Whelpdale, also, would perchance know where Biffen lived, but Whelpdale's address he had also forgotten. At night there were long periods of delirium; not mere confused muttering, but continuous talk which the listeners could follow perfectly.
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