"Fifty dollars," she announced proudly.
"Gee, Lil, you ought to have gotten more than that. Those fellows are supposed to give you one-third of the ring's value. I paid two hundred and forty dollars for it. You should have got sixty-five—no, you should have got eighty dollars for it."
"Just because you paid two hundred and forty dollars for it don't prove it's worth that much. Maybe you got gypped."
"Don't be silly. I got it wholesale."
"Even so," said Lillian sulkily. It's no fun to have one's surprises ruined with unkind criticism. "Anyhow we have the rent."
They waited in for the collector, who appeared promptly at eighty-thirty. Lillian handed him the money and got a receipt which she tucked carefully away in the bureau drawer. In the other house she hadn't saved receipts. She saved them now. Poverty makes you mistrust people.
They went to the movies for the nine o'clock show. Lillian didn't feel like going, but Hubert insisted.
"Hell, what's the use of sitting here?" he argued. "It's cooler in the movies and it takes my mind off my troubles for a while."
Lillian said nothing. She went to comb her hair. His troubles. She hated him to admit that there were troubles. Things were more easily coped with if they were not mentioned or at most referred to lightly.
Cliff and Anna were at the theater. Lillian saw them sitting in the next to the last row, gaping up at the picture. She did not mention to Hubert that the Sullivans
