“Merely that you have been harboring a lunatic,” said James Roque.
“Who is a lunatic?”
“William Penrose.”
“I cannot believe it.”
“It is hard to believe. Like all of his class he is very cunning. Why, should you keep him here, he might set fire to your house during the night.”
“Is this true?” asked the landlord, who was a timid man.
“It is a base lie!” exclaimed Penrose indignantly. “Don’t believe him. He wants to have me adjudged insane that he may get control of my property.”
The landlord looked bewildered.
“Is that true?” he repeated doubtfully.
“No, it is a lie. My poor cousin has no property. He is dependent upon me. I am willing to pay his expenses in an asylum, and this is his return.”