To win back her good graces I proceeded to examine Maxie, her boy, in spelling. The stratagem had the desired effect
We got down to business again. When she heard my plan she paused to survey me. I felt a sinking at the heart. I interpreted her searching look as saying, "The nerve this snoozer has!" But I was mistaken. Her pinched, sallow face grew tense with excitement, and she said, with coy eagerness: "How can we tell if your plan amounts to anything? If you gave us an idea of how much you could put up—"
"It would not require a million," I hazarded
"A million! Who talks of millions! Still, it would take a good deal of capital to start a factory that should be something like."
"There'll be no trouble about money," I parried, fighting shy of the more imposing term "capital," which made my paltry three hundred still paltrier
"There is money and money," she answered, with furtive glances at me. "A nickel is also money."
"I am not speaking of nickels, of course."
"I should say not. It's a matter of many thousands of dollars."
I was dumfounded, but instantly rallied. "Of course," I assented.
"At the same time it depends on many things."
"Still, you ought to give us some idea how much you could put in.
Is it—is it, say, fifteen thousand?"