'Of course. But you'd be made to see it wasn't. And suppose they
went on to say: Take a ten-pound share, and you shall have a big
interest on it, as well as your dresses for next to nothing. How
would you like that?'

'Can it be done?'

'I've got a notion it can, and I think I know two or three people
who would help to set the thing going. But we must have some capital
to show. Have you the pluck to join in?'

'And suppose I lose my money?'

'I'll guarantee you the same income you're getting now--if that
will satisfy you. I've been looking round, and making inquiries, and
I've got to know a bit about the profits of big dressmakers. We
should start in Camberwell, or somewhere about there, and fish in
all the women who want to do the heavy on very little. There are
thousands and thousands of them, and most of them'--she lowered
her voice--'know as much about cut and material as they do about
stockbroking. Do you twig? People like Mrs. Middlemist and Mrs.
Murch. They spend, most likely, thirty or forty pounds a year on
their things, and we could dress them a good deal more smartly for
half the money. Of course we should make out that a dress we sold
them for five guineas was worth ten in the shops, and the real cost
would be two. See? The thing is to persuade them that they're
getting an article cheap, and at the same time making money out of
other people.'