‘Clean!’ exclaimed Mrs. Evitt, lifting up her eyebrows with the indignation of outraged innocence. ‘Nobody that has ever lodged with me would ask that question. Clean! No house of mine ever ’arboured dirt.’
‘I should like to see the bedroom,’ said Edward. ‘The sitting-room matters very little. I shall be out all the day.’
‘If you’ll wait while I fetch a candle, I’ll show you both rooms,’ replied the landlady. ‘I suppose you want to come in at once?’
‘Yes. I have just come from the country, and have no more luggage than this bag. I can pay you for the rooms in advance, if you like.’
‘Money comes uncommonly handy now that provisions have rose to such a heighth,’ returned Mrs. Evitt, with an insinuating air. ‘Not that I could ever feel an instant’s doubt respecting a young gent of your appearance.’
‘Money down is the best reference,’ said Edward. ‘I’m a stranger in London. Here’s a sovereign. I suppose that’ll square us if I only keep the rooms a week?’
‘There’ll be a trifle for boot-cleaning,’ insinuated Mrs. Evitt.
‘Oh, very well.’
‘And half-a-crown for kitching fire.’
‘Oh, come now, I won’t stand kitchen fire. You don’t suppose I’m going to dine here. If you bring me up a cup of tea of a morning it is all I shall want, and the fire that boils your kettle will boil mine.’