"But I really have a very good reason for entertaining a few guests to-night," he said with a show of emotion; "my old friend, Fritz Levin, of the Post Office, has been promoted after nineteen years' service—I read it in the Postal Gazette last night. But as you disapprove, and as I always give way to you, I shall let the matter drop, and shall merely ask Levin and schoolmaster Nyström to a little supper in the counting-house."
"So that loafer Levin has been promoted? I never! Perhaps now he'll pay you back all the money he owes you?"
"I hope so!"
"I can't understand how on earth you can have anything to do with that man! And the schoolmaster! Beggars, both of them, who hardly own the clothes they wear."
"I say, old girl, I never interfere in your affairs; leave my business alone."
"If you have guests downstairs, I don't see why I shouldn't have friends up here!"
"Well, why don't you?"
"All right, little lubber, give me some money then."
The little lubber, in every respect pleased with the turn matters had taken, obeyed with pleasure.
"How much? I've very little cash to-day."