Walpole had lived in his loft for six months, and by now it was filled with the paintings he had created. He worked day and night, stopping only occasionally for something to eat.
He thought little about food and less about sleep. But what he thought about least of all was his rent.
As a result, his landlord now stood before him, demanding the three months' rent Walpole owed on the loft.
"Give me a couple of weeks," Walpole pleaded. "I know I'm on the verge of making some sales."
"Absolutely not," the landlord said. "You gave me that story last month. You won't get another day's credit from me."
"Look," Walpole said, "think of it as an investment. Some day this loft will be famous, and you'll be able to charge a fortune for it. In a few years, people will come into this disgusting loft and whisper, 'Walpole used to paint here.'"
"Pay your rent now," the landlord said, "or they'll be able to say it tomorrow morning."