His time being out, he had 'worked in the shop'

at weekly wages seven or eight years more; and had then betaken

himself to the banks of the Clyde, where he had studied, and filed, and

hammered, and improved his knowledge, theoretical and practical, for six

or seven years more. There he had had an offer to go to Lyons, which he

had accepted; and from Lyons had been engaged to go to Germany, and in

Germany had had an offer to go to St Petersburg, and there had done very

well indeed--never better. However, he had naturally felt a preference

for his own country, and a wish to gain distinction there, and to do

whatever service he could do, there rather than elsewhere. And so he had

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come home. And so at home he had established himself in business, and

had invented and executed, and worked his way on, until, after a dozen

years of constant suit and service, he had been enrolled in the

Great British Legion of Honour, the Legion of the Rebuffed of the

Circumlocution Office, and had been decorated with the Great British

Order of Merit, the Order of the Disorder of the Barnacles and

Stiltstalkings.

'It is much to be regretted,' said Clennam, 'that you ever turned your

thoughts that way, Mr Doyce.' 'True, sir, true to a certain extent. But what is a man to do? if he

has the misfortune to strike out something serviceable to the nation,

he must follow where it leads him.' 'Hadn't he better let it go?' said

Clennam. 'He can't do it,' said Doyce, shaking his head with a thoughtful smile.

'It's not put into his head to be buried. It's put into his head to be

made useful. You hold your life on the condition that to the last you

shall struggle hard for it. Every man holds a discovery on the same

terms.'

'That is to say,' said Arthur, with a growing admiration of his quiet

companion, 'you are not finally discouraged even now?'

'I have no right to be, if I am,' returned the other. 'The thing is as

true as it ever was.' When they had walked a little way in silence, Clennam, at once to

change the direct point of their conversation and not to change it

too abruptly, asked Mr Doyce if he had any partner in his business to

relieve him of a portion of its anxieties?

'No,' he returned, 'not at present. I had when I first entered on it,

and a good man he was. But he has been dead some years; and as I could

not easily take to the notion of another when I lost him, I bought

his share for myself and have gone on by myself ever since. And here's

another thing,' he said, stopping for a moment with a good-humoured

laugh in his eyes, and laying his closed right hand, with its peculiar

suppleness of thumb, on Clennam's arm, 'no inventor can be a man of

business, you know.'