Well, let him be honest. “Yes. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. And why, after all, should she not borrow money from Ramage? It was so true what he said; middle-class people WERE ridiculously squeamish about money. “Then you—you will?” A long pause. “How are ya, buddy? Good job at the concert. Ennison,” she said. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. As you brew so must you drink. Only of course I must begin something else at once.
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