"Shut up till I'm through talking," she admonished him roughly.
If I had not been so angry and humiliated I could have laughed aloud at the promptness with which Dicky closed his mouth.
"You never gave me or the boys a taste of your rages simply because you knew we wouldn't stand for them. I'll wager you anything you like that Mrs. Graham never knew of your temper until after you had married her. But now that you're safely married you think you can say anything you like. Men are all like that."
She spoke wearily, contemptuously, as if a sudden disagreeable memory had come to her. She dropped her hands from his shoulders.
"Of course, I've no right to butt in like this," she said, as if recalled to herself. "I beg pardon of both of you. Good-by," and she dashed for the door.
But Dicky, with one of his quick changes from wrath to remorse, was before her.
"No you don't, my dear," he said, grasping her arm. "You know I couldn't get angry with you no matter what you said. I owe you too much. I know I have a beast of a temper, but you know, too, I'm over it just as quickly. Look here."
He flopped down on his knees in an exaggerated pose of humility, and put up his hands first to me and then to Lillian.
"See. I beg Madge's pardon. I beg Lillian's pardon, everybody's pardon. Please don't kick me when I'm down."
Lillian's face relaxed. She laughed indulgently.