It turns out my new favorite happy little pen for inking goes through ink like woah, so it's back to the brush pen with the mashed nib until I can lay my hands on some refills. I also apologize for the whacky panel progression. This wasn't planned, it just sort of happened.

In the interest of not making any interested parties decipher my chicken scratching, the conversation follows:

Unnamed cad in monocle: "Oh, I have no profession. It is another example of my decadence. My attitude quite an indefensible one—is that so long as I am no trouble to any one I have a right to do as I like. I know I ought to be getting money out of people, or devoting myself to things I don't care a straw about, but somehow, I've not been able to begin."

Enid: "You are very ... fortunate. It is a wonderful opportunity, the possession of leisure."