"You have been very good to me," she said, hesitatingly, "and I
thought I would tell you. I am going to leave the stage."
"Yes," said I, "I suppose you will. They usually do when there's so
much money."
"There is no money," she said, "or very little. Our money is almost
gone."
"But I am told," said I, "that he has something like two or ten or
thirty millions--I have forgotten which."
"I know what you mean," she said. "I will not pretend that I do not.
I am not going to marry Mr. North."
"Then why are you leaving the stage?" I asked, severely. "What else
can you do to earn a living?"
She came closer to me, and I can see the look in her eyes yet as she
spoke.
"I can pick ducks," she said.
We sold the first year's feathers for $350.