'He's something to do with the stage--his brother's in the
booking-office at Daly's. He might get us some seats if we took him
out.'"
Sally laughed. The first moment that her lips had parted to the sound
since Janet had been with her.
"It's true," said Janet. "I'm not making it up. He got that
car--allowing for his trade discount--for a hundred and thirty-five
pounds--cape-cart hood and all. It only costs him thirteen pounds
a year in tyres--and it can do twenty-five miles to a gallon of petrol
with him inside, and he reckons he's been saved five shillings a week
regularly in dinners since he got it. Well, what else do you think
a man buys a motor-car for if he can't afford it? Some one has to
pay for it--why not his friends? That's the English system of
hospitality--what I buy you pay for; what you pay for I get, and what
I've got I must have bought, otherwise I shouldn't have it. It's the
principle of the _reductio ad absurdum_, if you know what that is.
Everybody gets what they want, everybody else pays for it, and
everybody's happy. I'll do your washing if you'll do mine. Can you
have a more generous hospitality than that?"
Sally laughed again, and then Janet launched her boat of enterprise.
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