"What!" ejaculated Mrs. Mason, "Do you propose to ask him a dollar for the use of three dollars for two or three days?"
"It's—it's a great risk!" mumbled Mrs. Mack.
"There is no risk at all. To ask such interest as that would be sheer robbery. We are poor and we can't afford to pay it."
"I am a poor old woman."
"You are not poor at all. You are worth thousands of dollars."
"Who said so?" demanded Mrs. Mack in alarm.
"Everybody knows it."
"It's—it's a-mistake, a great mistake. I—I can't earn anything, I'm too old to work. I don't want to die in a poor-house."
"You would live a great deal better in a poor-house than you live by yourself. I decline your offer, Mrs. Mack. I would rather pawn my wedding ring, as I proposed to Mark. That would only cost me nine cents in place of the dollar that you demand."
The old woman looked disappointed. She had thought of the matter all night with an avaricious longing for the interest that she expected to get out of Mark, and she had no thought that her offer would be declined.