Excerpt from Profit and Loss
He had, at the time when he was perforating his blotting pad. One daughter Margaret, aged three, and one son George. Aged two. His salary was 300 a year, and that, in the hands of such a wife, meant as bright and comfortable a home as any man could possibly have.
If only he could have been content with it, and the slow sure prospect ahead. But the blood of the old Bartys was in him.
Next door to him at Highbury lived for a time one James Craven, a young stockbroker, just begun busi ness on his own account after the usual bare headed servitude with a big firm in Throgmorton Street, where he had learned many things, and among others to look first after himself. He was a very decent fellow, however, and he did his best to keep Barty out of it.
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