‘What’s the rent?’ said the single gentleman.
‘One pound per week,’ replied Dick, improving on the terms.
‘I’ll take ‘em.’
‘The boots and clothes are extras,’ said Dick; ‘and the fires in winter time are—’
‘Are all agreed to,’ answered the single gentleman.
‘Two weeks certain,’ said Dick, ‘are the—’
‘Two weeks!’ cried the single gentleman gruffly, eyeing him from top to toe. ‘Two years. I shall live here for two years. Here. Ten pounds down. The bargain’s made.’
‘Why you see,’ said Dick, ‘my name is not Brass, and—’
‘Who said it was? My name’s not Brass. What then?’
‘The name of the master of the house is,’ said Dick.