Thirteen dollars a week—is that fair? Let me figure this out. Lulu is getting twelve dollars and fifty cents a week for Cordelia, and another twelve dollars and fifty cents for Pookie, and a great big fifteen dollars a week for Brutus. Add all these up and she gets, every week . . . she gets, every single week . . . she gets, every single week—I’m close, I’m close, I’m almost there—she gets, every single week, forty whole dollars!

And she wants to give Fleischman, who works just as hard, maybe harder, a measly thirteen dollars every week? That doesn’t seem one bit fair to me but—hold it!—listen to what Fleischman is saying.

“I don’t want your money, Lulu. I am happy, delighted, thrilled to help you for free. It’s truly my pleasure to serve you, to . . .”

“Fleischman, stop it right now!” Lulu roared. “Or I’m throwing up, right now, on your perfect sneakers.”

Fleischman shrugged his shoulders and stopped it right now.