“Is all that mine?” asked Lanis in a breathless tone.
“All that yours!” echoed the man in an indignant voice; “no, indeed—it’s my money—here is your share,” and he pushed two pieces of gold towards Lanis out of the great heap.
“But I earned it,” said Lanis indignantly; “I earned it with my voice.”
“And did I do nothing?” cried the man angrily. “Do you think I can give my time and services to you for nothing? I should think not. If I hadn’t put you into this hall to sing, and charged for people to hear you, why, you would have been singing for nothing in the streets, instead of getting two gold pieces.”
“But you have a hundred gold pieces.”
“Of course—that’s my share.”
“I did half the work, and I ought to have half the money.”
“Not at all,” replied the man, putting the gold in his pocket; “if you wanted half you should have said so before you sang.”
“But I trusted you,” cried Lanis.
“More fool you,” retorted the man carelessly; “but I saw you were a fool when you sang.”