Caddy Buddy books

What's compensation to her isn't compensation
to me. I've got a higher standard."
"The less you say about your standards, the better, my girl," retorted
Sir William. "Do you know that this is blackmail?"
"No, it isn't. Not when I ain't asked you for nothing. And if I pass
the remark how that three pounds a week is my idea of a minimum wage,
it isn't blackmail to state the fact."
Sir William paused in the act of tearing a page out of Fosdike's
note-book. "Three pounds a week!"
"Well," said Dolly reasonably, "I didn't depreciate the currency. Three
pounds a week is little enough these times for the girl who fell from
grace through the chief glory of Calderside."
"But suppose you marry," suggested Mr. Fosdike.
"Then I marry well," she said, "having means of my own. And I ought to,
seeing I'm kind of widow to the chief glory of--"
Sir William looked up sharply from the table. "If you use that phrase
again," he said, "I'll tear this paper up."
"Widow to Tim Martlow," she amended it, defiantly. He handed her the
document he had drawn up.


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