"Drink that," he said not unkindly. "Drop of weak brandy and
water," he muttered to Viner. "Do him no harm--I see how it is with
him--he's been starving."
Hyde caught the last word and laughed feebly as he handed the glass back.
"Starving!" he said. "Yes--that's it! I hope neither of you'll know what
it means! Three days without--"
"Now, Hyde!" interrupted Viner. "Never mind that--you won't starve again.
Come--tell us all about this--tell everything."
Hyde bent forward in his chair, but after a look at the two men, his
eyes sought the floor and moved from one plank to another as if he found
it difficult to find a fixed point.
"I don't know where to begin, Viner," he said at last. "You see, you've
never met me since we left school. I went in for medicine--I was at
Bart's for a time, but--well, I was no good, somehow. And then I went in
for the stage--I've had some fairly decent engagements, both here and in
the States, now and then. But you know what a precarious business that
is. And some time ago I struck a real bad patch, and I've been out of a
job for months. And lately it's gone from bad to worse--you know, or
rather I suppose you don't know, because you've never been in that
fix--pawning everything, and so on, until--well, I haven't had a penny in
my pockets for days now!"
"Your relations?" questioned Viner.
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