"Then where's the money?"
"How in the name of sense do you think I know? I'd go and get it if I knew. Dear! dear! dear! dear! The savings of ten years gone in a night, after all my pinching! I've done my own work—"
"When you couldn't get a girl," said Napoleon.
"I've worn old-fashioned clothes; I've twisted and screwed in every possible way to save that money—"
"Pa saved it," was Napoleon's emendation.
"Well," retorted the lady, "he'd better not have saved it: he'd better have let his family have it. What's the use of saving money for burglars?"
"You think now that the burglars have it?" said the doctor dryly.
"Oh, for pity's sake, hush! I don't think anything about it. I believe I'm going insane. How in the universe we're ever going to live is more than I can conceive."
"My dear, we are better off than we were ten years ago, for I yet have my practice, and we are as well off as you thought we were two days ago; and you were happy then."
"Happy!" There was a volume of bitter scorn in the word as Mrs. Lively uttered it.