I found myself drinking with Peter de Quincy tonight. I have seen him often before and exchanged a few words, but this time we spent all the evening together. He is a man after my own heart, though fortunately not a man after my own pocket. He is very wealthy, has a taste for drink and women, and his money is so easily come by that he can afford to give it away to friends who amuse him. He has recommended me to his tailor and he has given the man instructions that everything is to be put on his bill.
‘There isn’t a man in Cambridge can wear a coat like you do, George,’ he said. ‘And if there’s one thing I want from my friends, it’s that they don’t disgrace me. We’re going to a party at old Geffers’s rooms tomorrow. You’ll like old Geffers and you’ll like his company more. He has a way of finding the prettiest and the most willing women in any city he’s staying in, and his cellar’s the best you’ll find anywhere in the county.’