I know the signs.

But I am impotent: only fools possess the gold that wise men can coin into miracles.

Try me, sir; honor me with your sympathy.

You are a father--you have a sweet little girl, I hear."-- Bartley winced at that.--"Well, so have I, and the hole my poverty makes me pig in is not good for her, sir.

She needs the sea air, the scent of flowers, and, bless her little heart, she does enjoy them so! Give them to her, and I will give you zeal, energy, brains, and a million of money." This, for the first time in the interview, arrested Mr.Bartley's attention.
"I see you are a superior man," said he, "but I have no way to utilize your services." "You can give me no hope, sir ?" asked the poor fellow, still lingering.
"None--and I am sorry for it." This one gracious speech affected poor Hope so that he could not speak for a moment.