“Certainly. Could any girl creep out of a nest of thieves, into such society as the madam and Miss Spicer move in? I should think not.”
“Would it be enough to prove the boy guilty?” questioned Robert, thoughtfully.
“No: she will want more than that.”
“And even there we may fail. I have it—I have it! Don’t put yourself to any more trouble. The whole thing has come into my head at once. I only hope you are as sure of the money, as I am of earning it. Five thousand you said?”
“Five thousand!”
“Money down?”
“Money down!”
“But the division. We may as well start fair, you know, this being business and nothing else.”
Ellen Post looked down, and began to roll up her cap-string with both hands; then she unrolled it, and smoothed out the ribbon. Something was doubtless in her mind, that she did not know how to put into speech. At last she faltered out,
“Would there be any need of a division? I thought—I thought, perhaps, that you might prefer the whole, which is a fortune for two young persons just starting life in a liquor store, say, or a first-class boarding-house, where a real lady is wanted for the head of the table.”