"You mean you've been doing something foolish? Speculating? Losing money?" demanded Madam Crewe abruptly.
"My husban' signed a paper for his brother, an' it let'm in for all we had put by. I was wonderin' if the paper I signed here early in the summer, I was wonderin' if that had a sting in it, too? An' if so, how much?"
"I don't understand."
"I mean, the paper I signed here the time Eunice Youngs an' me both set our names to it together."
"That paper was my will, woman. It had nothing to do with you."
"That's what Sam told me, but—I——"
"You could not be called upon to pay one copper because of what you did that day. On the contrary—— No! Never mind! What have you stood to lose through your husband's foo——"
"He wasn't any foolisher'n me," Martha anticipated her quickly.
"Your husband's misfortune," amended Madam Crewe.
"Two-hunderd-and-fifty dollars. All we had saved. But we'll set about right over again, an' if we have luck, we can put by some more. An' anyhow, I'm thankful there won't be another such call on us. That was what I kinda had on my mind when I come."