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- Джек Лондон
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"
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
.
"
That
's
a
hundred
and
fifty
dollars
a
month
.
Well
,
Miss
Brewster
,
there
is
nothing
small
about
the
Ghost
.
Consider
yourself
on
salary
during
the
time
you
remain
with
us
.
"
She
made
no
acknowledgment
.
She
was
too
unused
as
yet
to
the
whims
of
the
man
to
accept
them
with
equanimity
.
"
I
forgot
to
inquire
,
"
he
went
on
suavely
,
"
as
to
the
nature
of
your
occupation
.
What
commodities
do
you
turn
out
?
What
tools
and
materials
do
you
require
?
"
"
Paper
and
ink
,
"
she
laughed
.
"
And
,
oh
!
also
a
typewriter
.
"
"
You
are
Maud
Brewster
,
"
I
said
slowly
and
with
certainty
,
almost
as
though
I
were
charging
her
with
a
crime
.
Her
eyes
lifted
curiously
to
mine
.
"
How
do
you
know
?
"
