How
much are you asking?"
"Seven shillings a week," replied his wife. "With breakfast, tea, and
supper, a pound a week."
Mr. Hatchard nearly whistled, but checked himself just in time.
"I'll give it a trial," he said, with an air of unbearable patronage.
Mrs. Hatchard hesitated.
"If you come here, you quite understand it's on a business footing," she
said.
"O' course," said the other, with affected surprise. "What do you think
I want it on?"
"You come here as a stranger, and I look after you as a stranger,"
continued his wife.
"Certainly," said the other. "I shall be made more comfortable that way,
I'm sure. But, of course, if you're afraid, as I said before, of giving
way to tender----"
"Tender fiddlesticks!" interrupted his wife, flushing and eying him
angrily.
"I'll come in and bring my things at nine o'clock to-night," said Mr.
Hatchard. "I'd like the windows open and the rooms aired a bit. And
what about the sheets?"
"What about them?" inquired his wife.
"Don't put me in damp sheets, that's all," said Mr. Hatchard. "One place
I was at----"
He broke off suddenly.
"Well!" said his wife, quickly.
"Was very particular about them," said Mr. Hatchard, recovering. "Well,
good-afternoon to you, ma'am."
"I want three weeks in advance," said his wife.
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