Then, taking it for granted that she was thinking of the wickedness of betting, his face darkened. It was aggravating to have a wife who was always troubling about things that couldn't be helped. The first person they saw on entering the bar was old John; and he sat in the corner of the bar on a high stool, his grey, death-like face sunk in the old unstarched shirt collar. The thin, wrinkled throat was hid with the remains of a cravat; it was passed twice round, and tied according to the fashions of fifty years ago. His boots were broken; the trousers, a grey, dirty brown, were torn as high up as the ankle; they had been mended and the patches hardly held together; the frock coat, green with age, with huge flaps over the pockets, frayed and torn, and many sizes too large, hung upon his starveling body. He seemed very feeble, and there was neither light nor expression in his glassy, watery eyes. "Eighteen months; a devil of a stiff sentence for a first offence," said William. "I just dropped in. Charles said you'd sure to be back. You're later than I expected." "We stopped to have a bit of lunch. But you heard what I said. She got eighteen months." "Who got eighteen months?" "Sarah." "Ah, Sarah. She was tried to-day. So she got eighteen months." "What's the matter? Wake up; you're half asleep. What will you have to drink?" "A glass of milk, if you've got such a thing." "Glass of milk! What is it, old man--not feeling well?" "Not very well. The fact is, I'm starving." "Starving! ...Then come into the parlour and have something to eat. Why didn't you say so before?" "I didn't like to." He led the old chap into the parlour and gave him a chair. "Didn't like to tell me that you was as hard up as all that? What do you mean? You didn't use to mind coming round for half a quid." "That was to back a horse; but I didn't like coming to ask for food--excuse me, I'm too weak to speak much." When old John had eaten, William asked how it was that things had gone so badly with him. "I've had terrible bad luck lately, can't get on a winner nohow. I have backed 'orses that 'as been tried to win with two stone more on their backs than they had to carry, but just because I was on them they didn't win. I don't know how many half-crowns I've had on first favourites. Then I tried the second favourites, but they gave way to outsiders or the first favourites when I took to backing them. Stack's tips and Ketley's omens was all the same as far as I was concerned. It's a poor business when you're out of luck." "It is giving way to fancy that does for the backers. The bookmaker's advantage is that he bets on principle and not on fancy."