"Then I wash my hands of the whole affair," he stated in accents of finality. "I refuse. I shall go, and you can do as you will,—blunder on," scornfully, "with your nitroglycerin, your rags, and drills and—and rouse the entire countryside, if you will."
"Ah, but—"
"Will you accept my aid?"
"On conditions, only," she stipulated. "Halvers?"
He shook his head.
"Half shares, or not at all!" She was firm.
"A partnership?"
This educed a moue of doubt, with: "I'm not worthy the honor."
"But," he promised rashly, "I can save you—oh, heaps of trouble in other—ah—lays."
She shrugged helplessly. "If I must—then I do accept. We are partners,
Dan Anisty and I!"