"I guess you know I've gummed this thing all up, don't you?" he asked at length.
"Yes, I guess you have," she replied, listless.
"And, of course"—bitterly—"it's all my fault...."
To this she answered nothing.
"Well, I'm sorry," he pursued in a sullen voice. "I guess I can't say any more'n that."
She sighed: "I guess it can't be helped."
He leaned back again, explored a pocket, brought to light a roll of money, with shaking hands stripped off four bills. "Well, anyway, there's your bit."
Taking the bills, she examined them carefully. "That's a whole week," she said, surprised.
"All right; it's coming to you."
With neither thanks nor further protest, she put the money away in her pocket-book.