"On a good conscience, sir."
"Excuse me, one more question," said the landlord, "What is your profession?"
At this very moment the young man's porter, returning on his second trip, entered the court. Among the articles with which his truck was loaded, an easel occupied a conspicuous position.
"Sir! Sir!!" shrieked old Durance, pointing out the easel to his landlord, "it's a painter!"
"I was sure he was an artist!" exclaimed the landlord in his turn, the hair of his wig standing up in affright, "a painter!! And you never inquired after this person," he continued to his porter, "you didn't know what he did!"
"He gave me five francs arrest," answered the poor fellow, "how could I suspect—"
"When you have finished," put in the stranger—
"Sir," replied Monsieur Bernard, mounting his spectacles with great decision, "since you have no furniture, you can't come in. The law authorizes me to refuse a tenant who brings no security."
"And my word, then?"
"Your word is not furniture, you must go somewhere else. Durance will give you back your earnest money."