"No, he didn't say that. I asked him if he'd make you, and he said he wouldn't have to, because you'd do it whether or no, or something like that—I don't just remember what."
"He didn't say I'd do it because he'd give me five thousand dollars a year for the job, did he?"
She shook her head. She began to look dazed. "No, Claude, he didn't say anything like that at all."
"Well, he said it to me. And he was going to do it. He thinks he's going to do it still."
"And isn't he?"
"No, Rosie. I've got better fish to fry than that. If I'm for sale I shall go high."
"Oh, Claude, what do you mean? What are you going to do?"
"I'll tell you, Rosie. It'll give you an idea of the chap I am—of what I was willing to renounce for you. I was talking to a girl last night who let me see that she was all ready to marry me. She didn't say it in so many words, of course; but that's what it amounted to. She lives in a big house, with ten or twelve servants, and is the only child of one of the richest men in the city. She's what you'd call an heiress—and she's a pretty girl, too."
"And what did you say to her, Claude?"
"I told her I couldn't. I told her about you."