"What more do you want? Don't I promise to pay you when I have the money?"
"Do you do any work?" demanded the landlady. "Do you earn anything?"
"At what business?"
"That's my affair. However, I don't mind telling you that I—speculate."
"Speculate—on ten cents!" retorted the landlady, in a sarcastic tone.
"All my capital's locked up in stocks at present," said Stephen, with ready falsehood. "I may have five hundred dollars coming in next week."
"I don't know whether to believe you or not," said Mrs. Jones, with justifiable skepticism.
"Do you doubt the word of a gentleman?" blustered Stephen.
"If you call yourself a gentleman, act accordin'. I've got just one thing to say, Mr. Palmer—if you don't pay me three weeks' lodgin' by next Tuesday, out you go, or my name isn't Jones. I can't afford to let my rooms to them as don't pay me."