“Why do you say harpy? She only wanted what we really owed her. And she was good and patient when I was ill. Yes, I paid her nine pounds.”
“I have one hundred pounds, Denasia.”
“You wrote and told me so.”
“Elizabeth gave it to me; and I must say she gave it very kindly and pleasantly.”
“Of course Elizabeth gave you it. Why not? Is there any merit in her doing a kindness to her own brother pleasantly? How else should she do it?”
“It was given as much for you as for me.”
“Decidedly not. If Elizabeth has the most ordinary amount of sense, she knows well I would not touch a farthing of her money; no, I would not if I was dying of hunger.”
“That is absurd, Denasia.”
“Call it what you will. I hate Elizabeth and Elizabeth hates me, and I will not touch her money or anything that is bought with it. For you it is different. Elizabeth loves you. She is rich, and if she desires to give you money I see no reason why you should refuse it––that is, if you see none.”