"How greedy it is!" he wheedled. "Well, you'll get plenty—plenty."
"How much?" said the girl. "Is it a salary?"
"Of course, there's the regular salary. But that won't amount to much. You know how those things are."
"How much?"
"Oh, say a dollar a night—until you make a hit."
"Six dollars a week."
"Seven. This is a Sunday town. Sunday's the big day. You'll have
Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinées, but they don't pay for them."
"Seven dollars a week." And the hospital wanted ten. "Couldn't
I get—about fifteen—or fourteen? I think I could do on fourteen."
"Rather! I was talking only of the salary. You'll make a good many times fifteen—if you play your cards right. It's true Schaumer draws only a beer crowd. But as soon as the word flies round that you're there, the boys with the boodle'll flock in. Oh, you'll wear the sparklers all right, pet."
Rather slowly it was penetrating to Susan what Mr. Blynn had in mind. "I'd—I'd rather take a regular salary," said she. "I must have ten a week for him. I can live any old way."