"I don't expect it to pay in a business sense," said Mr. Smith; "but, surely, humanity has some claim to consideration."
"Humanity! humph. Humanity don't pay, Mr. Smith; that's my experience. I've helped two or three in my time, and what return do you suppose I received?"
"The pleasing consciousness of having done good to your neighbour."
"Not a bit of it. I lost my money for my pains, and made enemies into the bargain. When I demanded my own, I received only insult—that's my experience, Mr. Smith, and the experience of ninety-nine in a hundred who listen to the so-called claims of humanity. As I said before—it doesn't pay."
"Then you will not go with me to see Mrs. Lloyd?"
"No, sir. You don't catch me hunting up the widows of broken merchants. Let them go to their own friends. I'd soon have plenty of rather unprofitable business on my hands, if I were to engage in affairs of this kind."
"I hardly think it will pay to talk with you on this subject any longer," said Mr. Smith.
"I'm just of your opinion," was the laughing answer, "unless I can induce you to let Mrs. Lloyd remain in ignorance of your benevolent intentions, and mind your own concerns, like a sensible man."
"Good morning," said Mr. Smith.
"Good morning," replied Jones; "in a week or two I shall expect to hear your report on this widow-hunting expedition."