“Oh, you’ll take all the money,” he instructed her seriously.
“I’ll have to allow you some, though,” she pointed out gaily.
“Half,” he explained. “We divide the takings equally—that’s my proposition. Snacks!”
“Oh, that’s much too much,” she protested as seriously.
The apparent admission pleased him, but increased his sense of magnanimity. “Share and share alike,” he repeated magnificently.
“But you don’t want to spend half the takings,” Jinny persisted. “How could I manage on a half?”
“Why, you’ll have much more than you ever had!”
Jinny was mystified. “But there’ll be the house to keep up and—and——” She paused with shy flaming cheeks.
Will was getting a bit puzzled too. “And your grandfather? But I’ve already offered to pay for him and his minder too—out of the joint takings, I mean. Surely half and half is the most you can expect.”
But it showed once more how little our Jinny had really been changed from early-Victorian womanhood by her exceptional experiences, that so unconventional a system of joint housekeeping made no appeal to her. “A quarter is the most you can expect,” she retorted.