And the more I mixed with Doubleday and his set, the more I felt this.

They all had the appearance of such well-to-do fellows, to whom expense seemed no object.

They talked in such a scoffing way of the "poor beggars" who couldn't "stand" the luxuries they indulged in, or dress in the fashionable style they affected.
After six months, the clothes with which I had come to London were beginning to look the worse for wear, and this afflicted me greatly just at a time when I found myself constantly in the society of these grandees.

I remember one entire evening at Doubleday's sitting with my left arm close in to my side because of a hole under the armpit; and on another occasion borrowing Mrs Nash's scissors to trim the ends of my trousers before going to spend the evening at Daly's.
That occasion, by the way, was the Tuesday when, according to invitation, I was to go up to the lodgings of Daly and the Field- Marshal, there to meet my old schoolfellow Flanagan.
I had looked forward not a little to this meeting, and was secretly glad that he would find me one of a set represented by such respectable and flourishing persons as Doubleday and Daly.

When, a fortnight before, Smith and I had hunted up and down his street to find him, I knew nothing of "what was what" compared with what I did now.