"Go on." She was leaning forward, her elbows on the closed doors of the hansom, her eyes gazing dreamily into the moonlit dimness of the cool woods through which they were driving.
"You don't want to stick at ten per?"
"No."
"It'll be less in a little while. Models don't last. The work's too hard."
"I can see that."
"And anyhow it means tenement house."
"Yes. Tenement house."
"Well—what then? What's your plan?"
"I haven't any."
"Haven't a plan—yet want to get on! Is that good sense?
Did ever anybody get anywhere without a plan?"