[Mysqlnavigator-bugs] E, and one day somebody--probably a Russian--will carry re

[Woodend <ab...@me...>]

 and Dover Street, and I see again just the same crowd, well-fed,
well-dressed, completely free from the cares which beset at least
five-sixths of the English race. They have worries; they take taxis
because they must not indulge in motor-cars, hansoms because taxis are
an extravagance, and omnibuses because they really must economize. But
they never look twice at twopence. They curse the injustice of fate, but
secretly they are aware of their luck. When they have nothing to do,
they say, in effect: "Let's go out and spend something." And they go
out. They spend their lives in spending. They deliberately gaze into
shop windows in order to discover an outlet for their money. You can
catch them at it any day. * * * * * I do not belong to this class by
birth. Artists very seldom do. I was born slightly beneath it. But by
the help of God and strict attention to business I have gained the right
of entrance into it. I admit that I have imitated its deportment, with
certain modifications of my own; I think its deportment is in many
respects worthy of imitation