"Maybe my wife wouldn't let me, if there was any such a person, but I haven't been so fortunate as Mr. Fogson, if that is his name."
"Mrs. F.," said her husband with a sudden thought, "you are not dressed for company."
Mrs. Fogson, upon this hint, scuttled down stairs, and the intruder resumed: "If I've taken a liberty I'm willing to apologize. What's more, I'll pay you fifty cents for the use of your bed and stay the night out."
He was appealing to Mr. Fogson's weak point, which was a love of money.
"I see you're ready to do the square thing," he said in softened accents. "If you'll say seventy-five——"
"No, I won't pay over fifty. I don't care to take it another night on those terms, if I am to be waked up by a dipper of water. You've wet the sheet and pillow so that I may take my death of cold if I sleep here any longer."
"I'll bring you a comforter which you can lay over the wet clothes."
"All right! Bring it up and I'll hand you the fifty cents."
"And—and if you would like breakfast in the morning, for the small extra sum of twenty-five cents——"