HORACE. Thanks. I have all the money I require. TRAMP. Have you, now? I haven’t, that’s the difference. Feels pretty comfortable, doesn’t it? I was doing very well once, over there in the States. HORACE. America? TRAMP. Yes. They’re pretty smart there, but I showed them I was as good as they. I made a steam valve that’s on most boilers to-day. Yes, I did. Just me. I got ten thousand dollars down before I got my papers out. But my partner got ahead of me. I never saw another cent. I fought him as long as the money lasted. But it didn’t go far in the Courts of _Justice_. It was the Law as downed me, Guv’ner. Drink?—only damned me. HORACE. Too bad. You must try again. TRAMP. Not much chance of that. One can’t do anything without a little capital, and who’s going to trust me? No, I’ll pick up a living how I can. HORACE. How do you pick up a living? TRAMP. Anyhow. Running after cabs. HORACE. Surely to goodness, nobody pays you for doing that? TRAMP. If I’m lucky I gets the job of lifting down the luggage. HORACE. Oh, that’s it. TRAMP. There’s a lovely fall of snow to-night. HORACE. Cold comfort for you, I should have thought. TRAMP. I may get a job shovelling it in the morning—if I am in luck. HORACE. Why don’t you go back to your old trade? TRAMP. Why don’t I go back to my old trade? Why don’t I? Who’s going to take me on? Who’ll give me a job? Will you? HORACE. I told you I can’t do anything for you. TRAMP. Then what’s the good of asking? But it don’t matter. I’ve got nothing to live for now. Nothing to save for. The Law broke me up, killed the missus. HORACE. You were married, then? TRAMP. Yes. HORACE. Any children? TRAMP. One. God forgive me. (_Affected._) HORACE. Care to take another? Some biscuits if you like. TRAMP. I ain’t proud. Thank you, Guv’ner. You’re a good un. I worked my way back to England only to find my missus dead and the little un gone. HORACE. Gone? How gone? TRAMP. The people she had been with had left, and I never could find out what had become of her. Poor little Minnie! HORACE. Minnie! TRAMP. That was her name, sir. HORACE. Minnie? (_Rising and his manner hardening._) TRAMP. Everything gone. Why should I care? Care! I beg pardon, sir. The whiskey set me talking. My story can’t interest you. Good night, sir. Perhaps if I come back in a day or two you might know of a job. HORACE. No. Quite useless. I can do nothing for you. Get along, now. TRAMP. Good night, sir. (_Exit TRAMP R._)