"I must risk that," she said. "I should lose more than three days in finding a substitute, and I think you will do the work as I want it done."
"And supposing I can't do it in time?"
"Will you do your best—that's all?"
"Certainly; whatever I do, I shall do my best. And if I fail you—"
Left unfinished, hanging in mid air, the phrase suggested the vague phantasmal contingencies for which he could find no name.
"I am willing to take the risk."
Her phrase too was satisfying. Its generous amplitude covered him like a cloak.
"But we haven't arranged anything about terms."
No, they had not. Was it in her adorable simplicity, or in the mere recklessness of her youth, that she engaged him first and talked about terms afterwards? Or did she know an honest man when she saw one? He took his note-book and pencil and made out an estimate with the rapidity of happy inspiration, a fantastic estimate, incredibly and ludicrously small.
"Then," said she, "there will be your expenses."