‘Shall you accept this?’ asked Amy, after dreary silence.
‘No one else would offer terms as good.’
‘Will they pay you at once?’
‘I must ask them to.’
Well, it was seventy-five pounds in hand. The cheque came as soon as it was requested, and Reardon’s face brightened for the moment. Blessed money! root of all good, until the world invent some saner economy.
‘How much do you owe your mother?’ he inquired, without looking at Amy.
‘Six pounds,’ she answered coldly.
‘And five to Carter; and rent, twelve pounds ten. We shall have a matter of fifty pounds to go on with.’