“You contemptible wretch!” cried Max. “You cloven-hoofed viper, who persists in turning and biting the hand that helped you! And after all we meant to do for you to try and raise you!—to endeavour to clothe and educate your neglected child, whose conduct as a work-girl is most reprehensible.”
“Look here,” cried Dick, whose face was working with anger.
“Silence, sir!” cried Max, thumping his stick upon the floor. “You grow lower and lower year by year, and now try to reward me by making this despicable plan to drag yourself up to my level. Now, look here. I’ve warned you, and it has been of no use. I have let you occupy this house, when I might have had a better tenant, and you have got in arrears.”
“Only two weeks,” cried Mrs Shingle indignantly.
“Silence, woman!” cried Max.
“Don’t bully her, Max, or there’ll be a row,” exclaimed Dick fiercely.
“Silence, both of you! I say I’ve let you get in arrears of rent for my property; and now you shall leave it. I’ll let the house to honest people who will pay—”
“Oh, Mr Max!” cried Mrs Shingle imploringly.
“And then I shall see the last of you, and have no more of these disgraceful meetings.”
“Mr Shingle, this is too bad,” cried Tom.