"A hundred?"
"Oh, more than that."
"Can't you suggest a figure yourself?"
"Well, let's say that in a good year I make anything up to three or four hundred pounds, and in a bad year anything down to fifty or sixty."
"We'll say that if you like. Do you expect any legacies to fall in to you—anything of that kind?"
"Unfortunately I don't."
Mr. Walkingshaw regarded him with contemptuous severity.
"Then you propose to marry my daughter on maybe fifty or sixty pounds a year?"
"I told you that was in a bad year," protested the artist.