She had become so earnest in her admonition, so charmingly emphatic, that he smiled in spite of himself.[289]
She flushed, noticing this, and said: "Altruism is a luxury in business matters; selfishness of the justifiable sort a necessity. Who will look out for your interests if you do not?"
"You seem to be doing it."
Her colour deepened: "I am only suggesting that you do not make a foolish bargain with me."
"Which proves," he said, "that you are not much better at business than am I. Otherwise you'd have taken me up."
"I'm a very good business woman," she insisted, warmly, "but I'm too much of the other kind of woman to be unfair!"
"Commercially," he said, "we both are sadly behind the times. To-day the world is eliminating its appendix; to-morrow it will be operated on for another obsolete and annoying appendage. I mean its conscience," he added, so seriously that for a moment her own gravity remained unaltered. Then, like a faint ray of sunlight, across her face the smile glimmered. It was a winning smile, fresh and unspoiled as the lips it touched.
"You will take half—won't you?" she asked.
"Yes, I will. Is it a bargain?"
"If you care to make it so, Mr. White."