“He was not bound to help me unless he pleased. But what riled me was his religious talk; he might have spared me that at least. And if those operators who have knocked the market to pieces haul in £30,000, they will likely give £1,000 to missions. “When a man has done his level best, and been fairly prudent, and has worked hard, and is getting a fair connection, and everything is taken away by a big, unscrupulous, speculative firm, which sees a chance of making a pile at the ruin of half a dozen struggling firms, it's a little hard.” “They ought to be put in jail; but they'll catch it some day;” and it was evident Mrs. Ransome, like many other people in her circumstances, found much satisfaction from the belief in future punishment. “It's apt to make one bitter, too,” Ransome went on. “When I sat opposite old Dodson in the 'bus this afternoon--come to the penny 'bus now, you see, Queenie--looking out from below his shaggy eyebrows like a Scotch terrier, with meanness written over his shabby clothes, and almost heard the gold chinking in his pockets, and thought that he could save our home and secure my future by a cheque, and never miss the money--suppose he lost it, which he wouldn't if I lived--I declare, I could have... well, I did not feel as Christian as Huddleston would desire.” “Bert, have you ever thought what we would do if we became rich--how we would send flowers to people who were not well off, and let them use our carriage, and send overworked teachers and clerks for holidays, and... “Help lame dogs in cotton over stiles, eh wifie? Yes, I've had my dreams too. I'd go in for the poor children's holiday fund, that would be my extravagance. But we are no better than other people. And were you never afraid that we would grow selfish and pompous, and mean and pharisaical, like Huddleston, and maybe end in being Dodsons?” “No, no, that is impossible!” cried his wife, “because, for one thing, we have loved, and, perhaps, Mr. Dodson never was loved, poor soul; and if things come to the worst, remember there is a good deal left.” “There is something in that, Queenie; run over the inventory, and I'll check you.” “First of all there is you, the truest, kindest, bravest husband in Liverpool.... “Stop; that is your own private property, and we were to go over our common means; besides, the valuation is ninety per cent too high.” “You be quiet And there are two children whom every one looks at in the street, and who are the sweetest... Nobody hears us, so it doesn't matter, and you know they are. Wouldn't it have been far worse if we had lost Reggie when he had diphtheria? Well, we have him and Maud, and they never looked better.” “That's true, wifie; go on; capital is mounting up.”