He could not give her the whole reason; he gave what he could. "I see his game. He's always trying to come the swell over me and the rest of us."
"I'm sure he doesn't mean to; it's just——"
"His naturally aristocratic manner?" he sneered.
Marie sat up straight and looked composedly at him. By now she was angry—and she meant to hurt. "That's exactly it, Sidney," she said, "and it's a pity everybody hasn't got it."
She did hurt sorely. He had no code to keep him from hitting back, and his wrath was fierce. "Where did you learn so much about aristocratic manners? Behind the counter?"
She flushed hotly; tears came in her eyes. He saw what he had done, and was touched to a sudden remorse.
"Oh, I say, Marie, I didn't mean——!"
"I shan't forget that," she said. "Never!"
He shrugged his shoulders and stuck his pipe back in his mouth. He was ashamed, but obstinate still. "You brought it on yourself," he grumbled.
"Yes, I forgot that I wasn't talking to a gentleman."