to. What would it profit me to marry
a case of chronic grip like that, sweet
heart? If he is worth a million, which
I don't doubt in the least, you can rest
. assured that he'll never be rated at
nine hundred and ninety-nine thous
I and, nine hundred and ninety-nine on
account of his wife's extravagance.
When he repeats that little clause in
a the marriage service about endowing
f the blushing bride with all his world
a ly goods, he'll have his fingers cross
ed. No, beloved, if I were to marry
for mercenary considerations, I'd pick
a horny-headed structural iron work
er, with a good-sized life and accident
i policy, who'd turn over his weekly
pay check to me every Saturday night,
and leave the question of beer money
t to my sense of justice. Mr. Stintwell
has been looking out for the main
r chance so long. and hard that he's suf
fering severely from eye strain. Did
you know he had invited me to go
with him to see the sub-treasury?"
"I should think that would be very
interesting," said Aunt Jane.
