“I know, Susan, I know!”
“And I know!” she declared. “I know what likelihood I've got to get my money back if you give up the only chance you've got to earn money.”
“Of course, I'm mighty sorry,” Harvey began.
“What do I care for your sorry?” she snapped. “I don't want your sorry; I want my money.”
“Well, I ain't got it, Susan,” Harvey said. “I ain't got nothin'. I ain't no good at business. I ain't cut out for it, an' that's a fact. But I got somethin' else in mind.”
“I doubt it.”
“I got an idee,” said Harvey, refusing to be angered, “that if I don't have a business to pull me down all the time, I can save money out of what I get every month an' pay you back that way. I might save ten dollars a month to pay you back, or fifteen, maybe. It's so dod—it's so expensive runnin' a business I just can't save nothin'. With this here Moses Shuder into it, an' hosses dyin' on me, an' everything—”
Miss Redding turned back to her cookies to show that she considered them far more important than anything Harvey might say.
“I dare say!” she said sarcastically.
“So that's what I come up here to offer you, Susan,” Harvey said. “I 'll save an' pay. You can count on it.”