Albert hesitated. He had, momentarily, forgotten his grandfather and the latter's prejudices. After all, what was the use of stirring up additional trouble.
“Yes, Grandfather,” he said.
“Course it's so. It's in this office that you draw your wages.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
“All right. Excuse me for nosin' in, Mr. Fosdick, but I knew the boy wasn't puttin' the thing as plain as it ought to be, and I didn't want you to get the wrong notion. Heave ahead.”
Fosdick smiled slightly. “All right, Captain,” he said. “I get it, I think. Well, then,” turning again to Albert, “your plan for supporting my daughter was to wait until your position here, plus the poetry, should bring in sufficient revenue. It didn't occur to you that—well, that there might be a possibility of getting money—elsewhere?”
Albert plainly did not understand, but it was just as plain that his grandfather did. Captain Zelotes spoke sharply.
“Mr. Fosdick,” he said, “I just answered that question for you.”
“Yes, I know. But if you were in my place you might like to have him answer it. I don't mean to be offensive, but business is business, and, after all, this is a business talk. So—”
The Captain interrupted. “So we'll talk it in a business way, eh?” he snapped. “All right. Al, what Mr. Fosdick means is had you cal'lated that, if you married his daughter, maybe her dad's money might help you and her to keep goin'? To put it even plainer: had you planned some on her bein' a rich girl?”