"Why, I never heard of such a thing! Does it cost that—all that? But then, the car does n't cost anything," she added soothingly, after a pause.
"Oh, no, the car doesn't cost anything—only eight or ten dollars to bring it down by train, or else two dollars an hour for a chauffeur to run it down for us," retorted her husband.
"Eight or ten dollars! Two dollars an hour to run it!" gasped Jessica. "Why, Herbert, what shall we do? There is only ten dollars now of the household money to last the rest of the month; and there 's this week's grocery bill and a dollar and a half for the laundry to pay!"
"That's exactly it—what shall we do?" snapped Herbert. This thing was getting on his nerves.
"But we must do," laughed Jessica hysterically. "The idea of giving up a three-thousand-dollar automobile because one owes a grocery bill and a dollar and a half for laundry!"
"Well, we can't eat the automobile, and 't won't wash our clothes for us."
"Naturally not! Who wants it to?" Jessica's nerves, also, were feeling the strain.
"We might—sell it."
"Sell it! Sell our automobile!" flamed Jessica; and to hear her, one would think the proposition was to sell an old family heirloom, beloved for years.
Her husband sighed.