“Go ahead, if it amuses you,” she said, regarding him with a puzzled expression in her eyes.
It took George a long time to shift the rubbish, but it pleased him to do so. He made four journeys to the junk shop, and finally, hot and a little exhausted, he presented her with five shillings.
“There!” he said. “A clear flat and five bob. It’s funny, isn’t it, that even rubbish is worth money?”
She nodded. “You’re an awful dope, George,” she said. “Why don’t you think big? Look at the effort you’ve just made to get five bob. With that effort you could have made five pounds.”
He thought about this seriously. “I don’t think so,” he said at last. “You see, no one can make five pounds quickly unless he has specialized knowledge. Even if it’s only backing a horse, you have to know the right horse to hack. You can’t make money unless you’ve been properly trained.” He shrugged uneasily. “Perhaps that’s why I’ve never had any real money.”
She flicked the cigarette butt into the empty fireplace. “If I liked to go on the streets,” she said, “I could earn a hundred pounds a week. I don’t have to have specialized knowledge to do that.”
“Why don’t you?” George asked, interested to hear what she would say.
She smiled secretly. “Because it’s too easy.”
“I wonder.”
“All right. Because I’m too proud. I’ve got other ideas.”