"Dat ish a very doubtful vay of doing pisness," he remarked. "I cannot do as you ask."
"Consider, sir," she replied. "The amount I ask you to credit me for is but small, and even if you should not get paid (which I am certain you will) the loss cannot be felt by a man of your wealth."
"Dat makes no differenish. I can't give you credit. It ish against my rules, and if I proke tem for you I vill have to do so for every body."
Mrs. Wentworth's heart sank within her at the determined manner in which he expressed his refusal. Without replying she moved towards the door, and was about to leave the room when she thought of the bedstead, on the sale of which she now depended. He may loan money on it she thought, and she returned to the side of his desk. He looked up at her impatiently.
"Vell," he remarked, frowning as he uttered the single word.
"As you won't give me credit," said Mrs. Wentworth, "I thought you may be willing to loan me some money if I gave a security for its payment."
"Vat kind of security?" he enquired.
"I have, at my room, a bedstead I purchased from you some time ago," she replied. "Will you lend a small sum of money on it?"
"No" he answered. "I am not a pawnbroker."