She fingered the edge of his coat, cajolingly.
"It's a beautiful picture!" she repeated again and again.

"And if you like I will see if I can sell it for you.

But, Henry----" "Well ?" "Please, please don't bother about money.

We shall have _heaps_.

There's no occasion for you to bother, and I won't _have_ you bothering." "What are you crying for ?" he asked in a murmur.
"It's only--only because I think it's so nice of you trying to earn money like that," she lied.