“Yes, sir. Won't you walk in?”
“Ahem, yes! I think I will. I have a little matter of business with her.”
Squire Leech entered the small sitting room, which seemed uncomfortably full when he was in it—not on account of his size, but because he seemed so swollen with a sense of his own importance as to convey the idea that he was cramped for space—very much like an owl in the cage of a canary.
“Good morning, Squire Leech,” said the widow.
“Good morning, ma'am. I apprehend you know my errand.”
“I suppose you come for the interest, Squire Leech.”
“You are quite right. Of course you are prepared to pay it.”
Though the squire said “of course,” he by no means expected that it would be ready, nor, for reasons which we know, did he desire it. He was rather discomfited, therefore, when Mrs. Carter said: “Did you bring a receipt with you, squire?”
“A receipt in full?” queried the great man.
“Yes, sir.”