“I never thought of the wrong of it until after I seen you,” said Joe, making his eyes ask. “Then I was sorry all right. . . . It was them led me into it. They liked to be fooled. And I’m only a poor boy.”
“Have you no employment?” asked Mr. Gore.
Joe shook his head.
“Um! . . . Ha!” said the millionaire.
“Will you give me a job?” whispered Joe.
Mr. Gore looked scared, and puffed out his cheeks. “Impossible!” he said. “Ah . . . in my sort of business there is nothing suitable. . . .”
“Will you let me come to see you?”
“Impossible!”
“Oh, I don’t mean come to your house,” said Joe. “Of course the Madam wouldn’t like a poor boy like me comin’ round. . . . But to your office . . . ?”
“Quite impossible!” gasped the millionaire.