"I presume you know his son Philip, also."
"Oh, yes, I know Phil," said Grit.
"Is he a friend of yours?" asked the lady curiously.
"No, I can't say that. We don't care much for each other."
"And whose fault is that?" asked the lady, smiling.
"I don't think it is mine. I have always treated Phil well enough, but he doesn't think me a suitable associate for him."
"Why?"
"Because I am poor, while he is the son of a rich man."
"That is as it may be," said the lady, shrugging her shoulders. "Money sometimes has wings. So you are not rich?"
"I have to work for a living."