That's lofty business, Mrs.Robinson, an' I expect you're afther gittin' rich.

Is it the gilt-edged butter you give him for his ash-cakes ?" "A pusson that's pious," said Phoebe, "don't want to get rich onter a minister of the gospel--" "Which would be wearin' on their hopes if they did," interrupted Molly.
"But I can tell you this," continued Phoebe, more sharply, "that it isn't as if I was a Catholic and boardin' a priest, and had to go on Wednesdays and confess back to him all the money he paid me on Tuesdays." Molly laughed aloud.

"We don't confess money, Mrs.Robinson, we confess sins; but perhaps you think money is a sin, and if that's so, this house is the innocentest place I ever lived in.

Sit down, Mrs.Robinson, and be friendly.

I want to ax you a question.