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"You're really meaning it?"
"If it's a practable proposition, O' Man. Assuming it's practable.
What's your idea of the figures?"
Johnson went to the chiffonier, got out a letter and tore off the back
sheet. "Let's figure it out," he said with solemn satisfaction. "Let's
see the lowest you could do it on."
He squared himself to the task, and Mr. Polly sat beside him like a
pupil, watching the evolution of the grey, distasteful figures that
were to dispose of his little hoard.
"
What running expenses have we got to provide for?" said Johnson,
wetting his pencil. "Let's have them first. Rent?..."
At the end of an hour of hideous speculations, Johnson decided: "It's
close. But you'll have a chance."
"M'm," said Mr. Polly. "What more does a brave man want?"
"One thing you can do quite easily. I've asked about it."
"What's that, O' Man?" said Mr. Polly.
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