I have often thought that the biggest bit of good luck (and I waslucky), which befell me on my outset into the world, was that the man Isat next to in the railway carriage was not a rogue. I travelled thirdclass to Liverpool for more than one reason--it was the cheapest way,besides which I did not wish to meet any family friends--and the man Ispeak of was a third-class passenger, and he went to Liverpool too.At the time I was puzzled to think how he came to guess that I wasrunning away, that I had money with me, and that I had never been toLiverpool before; but I can well imagine now how my ignorance andanxiety must have betrayed themselves at every station I mistook for theend of my journey, and with every question which I put, as I flatteredmyself, in the careless tones of common conversation, I really wonder Ihad not thought beforehand about my clothes, which fitted very badly onthe character I assumed, and the company I chose; but it was not perhapsto be expected that I should know then, as I know now, how conspicuousall over me must have been the absence of those outward signs ofhardship and poverty, which they who know poverty and hardship know sowell.