I must in some way break in and lead the conversation into other channels.
"Have you ever earned a dollar by your own labour ?" he demanded, certain of her answer, a triumphant vindictiveness in his voice.
"Yes, I have," she answered slowly, and I could have laughed aloud at his crestfallen visage.

"I remember my father giving me a dollar once, when I was a little girl, for remaining absolutely quiet for five minutes." He smiled indulgently.
"But that was long ago," she continued.

"And you would scarcely demand a little girl of nine to earn her own living." "At present, however," she said, after another slight pause, "I earn about eighteen hundred dollars a year." With one accord, all eyes left the plates and settled on her.

A woman who earned eighteen hundred dollars a year was worth looking at.

Wolf Larsen was undisguised in his admiration.
"Salary, or piece-work ?" he asked.
"Piece-work," she answered promptly.
"Eighteen hundred," he calculated.