"Nuthin', if yer listen to me. 'Ave yer got pluck enough ter start on yer
own?" she inquired, suddenly.

"Wot's the use, w'en I've got no beans?" replied Jonah.

"I'll find the beans, an' yer can go an' buy Bob Watkins's shop out as it
stands," said Mrs Yabsley, proudly.

"Fair dinkum!" cried Jonah, in amazement.

Ada put down her novelette and stared, astonished at the turn of the
conversation. It flashed through her mind that her mother had some
mysterious habits. Suppose she were like the misers she had read of in
books, who lived in the gutter, and owned terraces of houses? For a
moment Ada saw herself riding in a carriage, with rings on every finger,
and feathers in her hat, with the childlike faith of the ignorant in the
marvellous.

But Mrs Yabsley was studying some strange hieroglyphics like Chinese,
pencilled on the cupboard. She knitted her brows in the agony of
calculation.

"I can lay me 'ands on thirty pounds in solid cash," she announced. She
spoke as if it were a million. Jonah cried out in amazement; Ada felt
disappointed.

"W'ere is it, Mum? In the bank?" asked Jonah.

"No fear," said Mrs Yabsley, with a crafty smile. "It's as safe as a