"Bah!" Miss Jean ejaculated. "I don't believe you could do a day's work on a bet. You're like all the rest of—of——"
"Go on," Chetwood encouraged as she came to a stop in some confusion.
"Well, I will," said Miss Jean with sudden determination. "You're like all the rest of the remittance men. That's what I was going to say."
"One would gather that your opinion of what you call 'remittance men,' is not high."
"High!" Miss Jean's tone expressed much.
"H'm! Wasters, rotters, what?"
"And then some."
"And I'm like them, you think?"
"Oh, well, I didn't mean just that," Miss Jean admitted under cross-examination. "But you don't work, you know."
"Would you like me to work?"