"We'll be rich, maybe, Harry—"
"I've picked the winners for the other fellows every time, Mil."
"Anyhow, it's worth the gamble, Harry."
"I got a nose for what the people want. I've never been able to prove it from a high stool, but I'll show 'em now—by God! I'll show 'em now!" He sprang up, pulling the white table-cloth awry and folding her into his embrace. "I'll show 'em."
She leaned from him, her two hands against his chest, head thrown back and eyes up to him.
"We—can educate our boy, then, Harry, like—like a rich man's son."
"We ain't rich yet."
"Promise me, Harry, if we are—promise me that, Harry. It's the only promise I ask out of it. Whatever comes, if we win or lose, our boy can have college if he wants."
He held her close, his head up and gazing beyond her.
"With a rich daddy my boy can go to college like the best of 'em."