“Why, I have no objection,” said I, “but it isn’t necessary.”
“Pardon me if I differ,” said he, good naturedly, holding out his hand.
And then I understood that I was being held up.
“How much do you want to give her,” said I, wishing now that he was far away.
But his demand was very reasonable—comparatively speaking,—for he said,
“I think that five dollars and a quarter would be a fair amount for me to give. She may not get every cent, but I’ve talked a good deal to-night and the laborer is worthy of his hire. You’re a decent sort of fellow, or I might increase the amount.”
“You’ll have to come up stairs for it,” said I, “I never carry much in my pajamas.”
He followed me up stairs, his eyes roving all over the place.
“There must be a lot of high thinking done in this establishment,” said he, as he looked at the sparsely decorated walls.
“It was a high old thought to get you to pose as my friend. If Minerva stays with us I’ll think of you, and I wish that you might be induced to—”