"It's a nice room," said the pantomime dame. Which was a black lie. It was not a nice room. It never had been a nice room. And it did not seem at all probably that it ever would be a nice room. But it looked cheap. That was the great thing. Nobody could have the assurance to charge much for a room like that. A landlady with a conscience might even have gone to the length of paying people some small sum by way of compensation to them for sleeping in it.
(from Psmith in the City, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)