"WE'VE got it."
"We!"
"Well, it's all in the family. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours, ain't it?"
"No, it's not; no, it's not," cried Trina, vehemently. "It's all mine, mine. There's not a penny of it belongs to anybody else. I don't like to have to talk this way to you, but you just make me. We're not going to touch a penny of my five thousand nor a penny of that little money I managed to save — that seventy-five."
"That TWO hundred, you mean."
"That SEVENTY-FIVE. We're just going to live on the interest of that and on what I earn from Uncle Oelbermann — on just that thirty-one or two dollars."
"Huh! Think I'm going to do that, an' live in such a room as this?"
Trina folded her arms and looked him squarely in the face.
"Well, what ARE you going to do, then?"
"Huh?"