"You've got a lot to fret about," she said. "Don't you fret about money,
Sandro. I can manage a thousand in a month or so. No use hoarding it; it
looks as if we should neither of us want it long."
"You've got a thousand? What, now? Available?"
"In a week or so it could be."
"Then in God's name put it in the Alethea. What are you thinking about?
It's the biggest thing out."
"In the Alethea? I meant to give it to you."
"All right. I shall put it in, if you do. I tell you that in three years'
time you'll be rich out of it, and I shall draw an income of a couple of
thousand a year at least as long as the patent lasts, if not longer."
"How long does it last?"
"Fourteen years; then we'll try for an extension, for another seven, you
know, and we ought to get it. First and last I expect to get fifty
thousand out of the Alethea alone, besides another thing that I've talked
over with Mandeville. I'll tell you about it some day, I can't to-day.
I--I'm a little tired. But anyhow the Alethea's sure. I'll put the
thousand into it for you, and I'll hand you back double the money this
time next year.
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