"Are I what?"
"Are you going to give me half the money?"
"Well, I—I hadn't thought about it," Willie admitted.
Margery felt perfectly sure of this and sure likewise that he never would think of it unless she herself insisted on her rights.
"Then just think about it now. Here I am picking berries for you as fast as I can. I haven't et one. Now if you go sell these berries, you ought to give me half, oughtn't you?"
"I dunno but what I ought."
A timid creature would have rested content with this, but Margery had had too many dealings with the other sex to put undue confidence in any concession so vaguely expressed, so grudgingly admitted. It was rather a hard thing to do—she knew beforehand Willie Jones would hate her for it—but a nickel is a nickel, and now or never, she realized, was the moment to demand a definite promise.
"Well, then, will you?"
Willie seemed not to hear.
"Will you?" Margery repeated, stopping her picking to make her question more emphatic.