"However, a hint is harder to take than to make."

The colonel raised his faultless right hand--and oddly enough his great
corpulence did not extend in the slightest degree to his hand, but
stopped short at the wrists--and stroked his immense chin. His skin was
like Lou Macon's, except that in place of the white-flower bloom his was
a parchment, dead pallor. He lowered his hand with the same slow
precision and folded it with the other, all the time probing Donnegan
with his difficult eyes.

"Unfortunately--most unfortunately, it is impossible for me to
accommodate you, Mr. Donnegan."

The reply was not flippant, but quick. "Not at all. I am the easiest
person in the world to accommodate."

The big man smiled sadly.

"My fortune has fallen upon evil days, sir. It is no longer what it was.
There are in this house three habitable rooms; this one; my daughter's
apartment; the kitchen where old Haggie sleeps. Otherwise you are in a
rat trap of a place."

He shook his head, a slow, decisive motion.

"A spare blanket," said Donnegan, "will be enough."

There was another sigh and another shake of the head.