He hesitated, to gain time. “Hum!” said he, “the sum?”
Jael repeated her pantomime as before.
Still Henry doubted, and, to feel his way, said, half interrogatively, “Five—thou—sand?”
Jael nodded.
“Five thousand pounds,” said Henry, as bold as brass.
“Five thousand pounds!” cried Mr. Carden. “A workman insure his life for five thousand pounds!”
“Well, a man's life is worth five thousand pounds, or it is worth nothing. And, sir, how long do you think I shall be a workman, especially in Hillsborough, where from workman to master is no more than hopping across a gutter?”
Mr. Carden smiled approval. “But five thousand pounds! The annual premium will be considerable. May I ask about how much you make a year?”
“Oh, papa!”
“Well, sir, Mr. Cheetham pays me L300 a year, at the rate of, and I can make another L100 by carving at odd times. But, if you doubt my ability, let us stay as we are, sir. It was your proposal, not mine, you know.”