Does your head ache ? '' asked Jill , one evening in March , observing that Jack sat with his head in his hands , an attitude which , with him , meant either pain or perplexity . `` No ; but I 'm bothered . I want some money , and I do n't see how I can earn it , '' he answered , tumbling his hair about , and frowning darkly at the fire . `` How much ? '' and Jill 's ready hand went to the pocket where her little purse lay , for she felt rich with several presents lately made her . `` Two seventy-five . No , thank you , I wo n't borrow . '' `` What is it for ? '' `` Ca n't tell . '' `` Why , I thought you told me everything . '' `` Sorry , but I ca n't this time . Do n't you worry ; I shall think of something . '' `` Could n't your mother help ? '' `` Do n't wish to ask her . '' `` Why ! ca n't she know ? '' `` Nobody can . '' `` How queer ! Is it a scrape , Jack ? ''
asked XXXXX , looking as curious as a magpie .
Jack Jill Nobody fire in money pain presents purse queer