If you was ugly, you might after several years get twenty or
twenty-five by working hard--unless you lost your figure first.
But the men won't let a good looker rise that way. Do you
follow me?"
"Yes."
"I'm not talking theory. I'm talking life. Take you and me
for example. I can help you--help you a lot. In fact I can
put you on your feet. And I'm willing. If you was a man and
I liked you and wanted to help you, I'd make you help me, too.
I'd make you do a lot of things for me--maybe some of 'em not
so very nice--maybe some of 'em downright dirty. And you'd do
'em, as all young fellows, struggling up, have to. But you're
a woman. So I'm willing to make easier terms. But I can't
help you with you not showing any appreciation. That wouldn't
be good business--would it?--to get no return but, `Oh, thank
you so much, Mr. Gideon. So sweet of you. I'll remember you
in my prayers.' Would that be sensible?"
"No," said Susan.
"Well, then! If I do you a good turn, you've got to do me a
good turn--not one that I don't want done, but one I do want
done. Ain't I right? Do you follow me?"
"I follow you."
Some vague accent in Susan's voice made him feel dissatisfied
with her response. "I hope you do," he said sharply. "What
I'm saying is dresses on your back and dollars in your
pocket--and getting on in the world--if you work it right."
"Getting on in the world," said Susan, pensively.
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