“You are mistaken, Deacon Crane.”
“How are you goin’ to stop me foreclosin'?”
“By paying the mortgage.”
“Have you got the money?” asked the deacon, his jaw dropping.
“Who lent it to you? Was it Mr. Ainsworth?”
“I don’t think, Deacon Crane, that that is a question which you have any right to ask.”
“Oh, well, if you don’t want to tell,” said the deacon, in a tone of disappointment.
“I don’t know that I have any objection to tell you, though, as I said, it is not a question which you have a right to ask. Guy lent it to me.”
“Guy lent it to you?” repeated the deacon, in an amazement which was almost ludicrous.