“I wish you’d be serious about this,” Caroline said. “Nancy’s the best friend I have in the world, and she doesn’t seem to be quite right in her mind, Billy. Of course, I approve of a good part of her scheme. I believe that she can be of incalculable value as a pioneer in an enterprise of this sort. Her restaurant is based on a strictly scientific theory, and every person who patronizes it gets a balanced ration, if he has the good sense to eat it as it’s served.”
“And not leave any protein on his plate,” Billy murmured.
“I don’t even mind the slight extra expenditure and the deficit that is bound to follow her theory of stuffing all her subnormal patrons with additional nourishment. That is charity. I believe in devoting a certain amount of one’s income to charity, but what I mind about the whole proceeding is the crazy way that Nancy is running it. She’s not even trying to break even. She orders all the delicacies of the season—no matter what they are. She’s paid an incredible amount for the new set of carved chairs she has bought for up-stairs. You’d think she had an unlimited fortune behind her, instead of being in a position where the sheriff may walk in upon her any day.”
“Handy men to have around the house,—sheriffs. I knew a deputy sheriff once that helped the lady of the house do a baby wash while he was standing around in charge of the place. All the servants had deserted, and—”
“You pretend to be Nancy’s friend, and you’re the only thing remotely approaching a lawyer that she has, and yet you can shake with 172 joy at the thought of her going into bankruptcy.”
“That isn’t what I’m shaking with joy about.”
“Nancy must have spent at least twice the amount of her original investment.”
“Just about,” Billy agreed cheerfully.
Caroline turned large reproachful eyes on him.