“To tell the truth,” answered the old gentleman, “I am more than half inclined to stay; I am in need of funds.”
“If a loan of ten shillings would help you, it is at your service,” responded Watts, with eagerness.
“No, I think I would rather stay,” said the old man, “and get my bill discounted.”
“You shall not stay in my house,” cried Mr. Watts. “This is the last time you shall have a bed at the ‘Tregonwell Arms.’”
“I insist upon remaining,” replied Mr. Finsbury, with spirit; “I remain by Act of Parliament; turn me out if you dare.”
“Then pay your bill,” said Mr. Watts.
“Take that,” cried the old man, tossing him the negotiable bill.
“It is not legal tender,” replied Mr. Watts. “You must leave my house at once.”
“You cannot appreciate the contempt I feel for you, Mr. Watts,” said the old gentleman, resigning himself to circumstances. “But you shall feel it in one way: I refuse to pay my bill.”
“I don’t care for your bill,” responded Mr. Watts. “What I want is your absence.”