"[...]mode demanded. Immediately he was off again. "And the first thing you know, Mrs. McChesney, ma’am, we’ll have a motor truck backing up at the door once a month and six strong men carrying
my salary to the freight elevator in sacks." Emma McChesney buttered her bit of toast, then looked up to remark quietly: "Hadn’t you better qualify for the trial heats, Jock, before you jump
into the finals?" "Trial heats!" sneered Jock. "They’re poky. I want real money. Now! It isn’t enough to be just well-to-do in these days. It needs money. I want to be rich! Not just
prosperous, but rich! So rich that I can let the bath soap float around in the water without any pricks of conscience. So successful that they’ll say, ’And he’s a mere boy,[...]".