"Do you think so!" returned Mr. Skimpole. "Don't say that, don't say that. Let us suppose him keeping company with Common Sense--an excellent man--a good deal wrinkled--dreadfully practical--change for a ten-pound note in every pocket--ruled account-book in his hand--say, upon the whole, resembling a tax-gatherer. Our dear Richard, sanguine, ardent, overleaping obstacles, bursting with poetry like a young bud, says to this highly respectable companion, 'I see a golden prospect before me; it's very bright, it's very beautiful, it's very joyous; here I go, bounding over the landscape to come at it!' The respectable companion instantly knocks him down with the ruled account-book; tells him in a literal, prosaic way that he sees no such thing; shows him it's nothing but fees, fraud, horsehair wigs, and black gowns. Now you know that's a painful change--sensible in the last degree, I have no doubt, but disagreeable. I can't do it. I haven't got the ruled account-book, I have none of the tax-gathering elements in my composition, I am not at all respectable, and I don't want to be. Odd perhaps, but so it is!"

"Don't say that," returned Mr. Skimpole. "Let us suppose him keeping company with Common Sense - an excellent man - wrinkled - dreadfully practical - with an account book in his hand - resembling a tax-gatherer. Our dear ardent Richard says to this respectable companion, 'I see a golden prospect before me; it's very bright, it's very joyous; here I go, bounding over the landscape to come at it!' The respectable companion instantly knocks him down with the account-book; tells him that he sees no such thing; shows him it's nothing but fees, fraud, horsehair wigs, and black gowns. Now I can't do it. I haven't got the account-book, I have none of the tax-gathering elements in my composition, I am not respectable, and I don't want to be. Odd perhaps, but so it is!"
