"About twelve-fifty," I says sort of getting a glimmer.
"When your Pa and me was married he give me twelve a week for all our meals!" she says, and set back and folded her hands in a way which said all she hadn't.
"But times has changed," I says sort of feeble.
"But appetites has not!" says Ma. "And how can you keep in good training on this war-nonsense?" she wanted to know. "Not to mention me, which it might improve my figure but never my disposition?"
"But how about making war sacrifices and all, Ma?" I says. "Jim ain't eating like we done up till yesterday!"
"Nor he ain't eating twelve dollar dinners at the Ritz, neither," she reminds me, at which of course I shut up and she went on. "Now I dont believe being stingy to ourselves is really gonner help the war. You have strode in upon my department for once, Mary Gilligan, and I'm going to put you out! You don't know where to economize and I do. No more eating out, and a good sensible table at home, minus cream cakes," she says, "is what we do from now on!"
And with that she marches out leaving me flat as one of her own pan-cakes. Well, this was bad enough, but when Musette got after me as I was dressing to go for my five miles, I seen that my humbling for the day was not finished.
"That dress Madam bought yesterday," she began.
"You can have it!" I said, beating her to it, or so I thought.
"Thank you, I do not care for it," says Musette. "I was just remarking it is really not fit to wear again. Madam would of done better to pay a little more!"