“How much board do you pay?”
“Six dollars.”
“Six dollars!” repeated Randolph, turning up his nose.
“Some of the boarders pay considerably more, but my room, as you see, is small, and that makes it low for me.”
“What sort of a table have you?”
“Plain, but as good as could be expected. Of course it don’t compare with yours.”
“I should say not.”
“But I find no fault with it. Everything is served neatly, and that is what I care most about.”
At this point Mr. Ingalls knocked at the door.
“Excuse me,” he said, when he saw Randolph; “I didn’t know you had company.”