“Sir, my name is Bradley Headstone.”

“As you justly said, my good sir, your name cannot concern me. Now, what more?”

“This more. Oh, what a misfortune is mine,” cried Bradley, breaking off to wipe the starting perspiration from his face as he shook from head to foot, “that I cannot so control myself as to appear a stronger creature than this, when a man who has not felt in all his life what I have felt in a day can so command himself!” He said it in a very agony, and even followed it with an errant motion of his hands as if he could have torn himself.

Eugene Wrayburn looked on at him, as if he found him beginning to be rather an entertaining study.

“ Mr. Wrayburn, I desire to say something to you on my own part.”