“Shave it every morning; it’s being done. But what’s your figure?”
“Seventy-six fifty.”
There was nothing for Henry to do but to have a new date painted on the sign, and to draw on his reserve fund, but at bottom he was vastly perturbed. He had counted on a running start, and every week of delay was a vicious handicap. If he had remotely imagined how elastic a contractor’s agreement could be, he would certainly have thought twice about ordering so many changes––he would have steered a middle course, and been satisfied with half the improvement––but as it was, he had put himself in a trap. Now that the work was partly done, it would have to be completed. There was no way out of it. And from day to day, as the arrears of labour heaped up, 115 and cost was piled on cost, Henry began to lose a trifle of his fine buoyancy and optimism.
Also, it was amazing to discover that Anna was much less self-reliant than he had thought her. Almost every night she displayed some unsuspected trait of helplessness, so that he simply had to shelve his worries, and baby her out of her own. He adored her, and therefore he never questioned her ingenuousness; he didn’t see that by monopolizing his thoughts, and turning them entirely upon herself, she prevented him from wasting his energy in futile brooding, even if he had inclined to it.
He planned to open in mid-September, but a strike among the carpenters added a few days to the time, and, by virtue of a compromise, a few dollars to the account. The building inspector wouldn’t pass the wiring, and the electricians took a holiday before they condescended to return. When the last nail was driven, the last brushful of paint applied, the final item added to the long statement, the day was the last Friday in the month, and the total bill amounted to more than nine thousand dollars.
“Anna,” said Henry, reflectively, “it’s a lucky thing for us this world was all built before we were born. Know that? Because if they’d ever started it under modern conditions, there wouldn’t be anything to it yet but the Garden of Eden and Atlantic City and maybe Gopher Prairie.... Well, I wonder what’s next?”
“There won’t be any next, dear. Nothing can happen now. And aren’t you glad I’ve made us economize? Aren’t you? Say your prayers! Say––’bless Anna’!”
“Not Anna––Pollyanna. Glad we economized! Why don’t you say you’re glad it took two months to do two weeks’ work because that gave me so much more time to study the game, and find out how to run the theatre? No, it goes back farther than that. I’m glad you caught me while I was so young.”
“Henry!”