“There you go, sneering again. You women can’t understand a fellow. Here am I worried to death for money, and have to drudge as old Van Heldre’s clerk.”
“Worried for money, Harry? What nonsense!”
“I am. You don’t know. I say, Lou, dear.”
“Now, Harry! you will be so late.”
“I won’t go at all if you don’t listen to me. Look here; I want fifty pounds.”
“What for?”
“Never mind. Will you lend it to me?”
“But what can you want with fifty pounds, Harry? You’re not in debt?”
“You’ve got some saved up. Now, lend it to me, there’s a good girl; I’ll pay you again, honour bright.”
“Harry, I’ve lent you money till I’m tired of lending, and you never do pay me back.”