"You do inconvenience the lady greatly." Both my tone and my manner were severe--as severe, that is, as they could be--considering that I was in my night-shirt sitting up in bed. "I trust not. I would not wish her to leave the room one moment sooner on our account." Then I saw what he was at. He wanted to get me alone and without the aid of my wife's moral support to back me. I looked at Lucy. She was standing very straight, looking alternately at both of us, as if she were making up her mind which she ought to admire most--or least. I caught a gleam from the corner of her eye. It was the one I sought. "I have no secrets from my wife. What you wish to say to me you may say in her presence, and be so good as to say it quickly, sir." Leaning back in his chair, thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, the fellow looked at Lucy with a smile upon his impudent face for which I could have struck him--and no doubt I should have struck him, had my health permitted it. "No secrets from your wife? What a model husband you must be! Permit me, madam, to tender you my most sincere congratulations--you have secured a prize." My wife said nothing. But I saw her lips curl. "Do not address yourself to my wife, sir; address yourself to me." Still lolling back in the chair, the fellow turned, with the same impudent smile, to me. "To you? Certainly I will address myself to you. I am here to address myself to you, though my address will not occupy more than half a dozen words. I want from you a hundred pounds. That is the only remark which I wish to address to you." "What!" I was reduced to gasping. "Surely what I say is plain enough. And don't I say it plainly? I want from you a hundred pounds." "This is Friday, and you only had a hundred pounds from me on Monday." "Yes, and this, as you say, is Friday. A hundred pounds are but a hundred pounds. In the hands of a gentleman they fly. Especially when he has to provide for what may be called preliminary expenses of a certain kind, which, in themselves, make a hole in a century." I knew to what he referred. He meant that he had replenished his wardrobe. As though that had anything to do with me. "Do you imagine that I am a bank at which you have a large current account on which you can draw at sight." He laughed--or pretended to. "That is precisely what I not only imagine, but fervently believe." "Then your belief is a very foolish one. I assure you that you were never more in error in your life." He glanced at a gold watch which he took out of his waistcoat pocket. "Why should we waste time over these small quibbles? Are we children, you and I? I have an engagement shortly. If you have not the sum in the house in gold I will take what you have in cash, and the balance in an open cheque to bearer." "You will have neither cash nor cheque from me. I will not give you one single penny." "Do you mean it?"