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Mr. Stryver shouldered his way through the law, like some great

engine forcing itself through turbid water, and dragged his

useful friend in his wake, like a boat towed astern. As the boat

so favoured is usually in a rough plight, and mostly under water,

so, Sydney had a swamped life of it. But, easy and strong custom,

unhappily so much easier and stronger in him than any stimulating

sense of desert or disgrace, made it the life he was to lead; and

he no more thought of emerging from his state of lion's jackal,

than any real jackal may be supposed to think of rising to be a

lion. Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow with property

and three boys, who had nothing particularly shining about them

but the straight hair of their dumpling heads.