"Oh, I'm afraid!" she wailed. "When my income is cut off what shall I do?"
"I promised you—in Bobo's name—to take care of that."
"To the same amount?" she asked sharply.
Jack smiled dryly. "I'm afraid I'd hardly feel justified in recommending that Bobo keep up all this—but, say, ten thousand a year."
"Ten thousand!" she cried, aghast. "That's nothing!"
A grimmer tone crept into Jack's voice. "Sorry, but we don't owe you anything, you know. If you refuse to help me, I should have to have you arrested."
If she had defied him Jack's position would have been a little awkward, for he was not prepared to go as far as he had said. But Mrs. Cleaver's spirit was broken now. She only shuddered and wept the louder.
"Ten thousand!" she wailed. "I'll have to give up everything that makes life worth living!"
"You told me you were sick of all this."
"I'll have to move into a miserable apartment!"