So don't you go talking about this to anyone else. You don't want me put in jug, do you?”
“I won't tell a soul,” the boy said. “Do you do this to many cars, dad?”
Every single car that comes through my hands gets the treatment,” the father said.
They all have their mileage cut to under ten thou before they're offered for sale.
And to think I invented that all by myself,” he added proudly. “It's made me a mint.”
Matilda, who had been listening closely, said, “But daddy, that's even more dishonest than the sawdust.
It's disgusting. You're cheating people who trust you.”
“If you don't like it then don't eat the food in this house,” the father said. “It's bought with the profits.”
“It's dirty money,” Matilda said. “I hate it.” Two red spots appeared on the father's cheeks.
“Who the heck do you think you are,” he shouted, “The Archbishop of Canterbury or something, preaching to me about honesty?
You're just an ignorant little squirt who hasn't the foggiest idea what you're talking about!”
“Quite right, Harry,” the mother said. And to Matilda she said, “You've got a nerve talking to your father like that.
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