"I have brought you two hundred and fifty pounds," he said.
"Two hundred and fifty pounds!" she said, jumping up with a savage
laugh. "No, my boy, you don't get off for that if I know it. Why, I
owe all that at this moment."
"You had better sit down and be quiet," he said, "or you will not get
two hundred and fifty pence. In your own interest I recommend you to
sit down."
There was something about the man's voice and manner that scared the
female savage before him, fierce as she was, and she sat down.
"Listen," he went on, "you are continually complaining of poverty; I
come to your house--your house, mind you, not your rooms, and I find
the /debris/ of a card party lying about. I see champagne bottles
freshly opened there in the corner. I see a dressing gown on the sofa
that must have cost twenty or thirty pounds. I hear some brute
associate of yours out in the street asking you to lend him another
'fiver.' You complain of poverty and you have had over four hundred
pounds from me this year alone, and I know that you earn twelve pounds
a week at the music hall, and not five as you say. No, do not trouble
to lie to me, for I have made enquiries."
"Spying again," said the woman with a sneer.
"Yes, spying, if you like; but there it is.
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