The actor looked very poor, very thin, very bare of everything. His appearance suddenly struck John as they stood side by side in the crowded street. The omnibus was already in sight, bearing down upon him with its freight of men. John was very eager to escape, to get to his own business, to plunge into the plans which he so confidently expected were to bring him fame and fortune. But it suddenly occurred to him what a contrast to his own confident youth was this poor man at the other end of life, who had made his try and failed: and who out of the depths of his poverty and downfall, was pleading for another who had failed more bitterly than himself. The pathos of it struck John in the midst of his impatience to escape from it, and his natural youthful disinclination to have painful matters which he had nothing to do with, thrust upon him like this. He hated it, he was impatient of it, he longed to escape and feel himself in face of his own success which he held to be so certain; but a certain glistening wistfulness in the actor’s eye, and his reluctance to be left behind, and the shabbiness of his garb and aspect altogether, moved John’s heart in spite of himself. The young man adopted that expedient which is so general, with which most of us are so willing to buy off distress and free ourselves from the sight of misery. He took out one of his few sovereings--for though he was sufficiently well off he did not abound in money--from his waistcoat pocket. ‘I have not seen Edie for a long time,’ he said, ‘and she must want much bigger dolls now than the one she used to be so fond of. Will you give her this for me, and tell her to buy something with it. And I’ll come and see her soon. Here’s my omnibus. I am sorry I can’t do anything for your friend. Good-bye.’ ‘God bless ye,’ said the actor. ‘Ye’re always the same fine fellow. Edie will bless ye, me brave boy. But think over the other case that I’ve told ye of. Think it over, and good-bye, and be sure ye come. We’ll look for ye, and Edie---- Good-bye. Good-bye!’