"There are breakfasts," said Basil, "with which you have been good enough to supply me. I have not kept faith with you. When I took these rooms I promised to pay always a fortnight's rent in advance; lately I have not done so."
"How could you pay, sir, when you didn't know what the breakfasts came to?"
"That does not excuse me. Oblige me by telling me how much I owe you."
"If you won't be denied, sir, it's twelve and tenpence."
"There it is, and I am infinitely obliged to you. Mrs. Philpott, I am sorry to say I must give you a week's notice."
"You're never going to leave us, sir! Is there anything wrong with the rooms? We'll have it put right in a twinkling."
"The rooms are very comfortable, and I wish I could remain in them; but it cannot be."
"You must remain, sir, really you must. I won't take your notice. You must sleep somewhere Philpott will never forgive me if I let you go."
Her consciousness of the strait he was in, and her pity for it, were so unmistakable--her desire to befriend him and her sympathy were so clearly expressed--that Basil covered his eyes with his hand, and remained silent awhile. When he removed his hand he said:
"I am truly sensible of your goodness, Mrs. Philpott, but it must be as I say."