Two.
He was angry, and the sight of the flushed meekness of his sister, as she leaned quietly with her back against an easy-chair, made him angrier.
“Enough of this!” he said gruffly and peremptorily.
Darius, with scarcely a break, continued.
“I say enough of this!” Edwin cried, with increased harshness.
The old man paused, half intimidated. With his pimpled face and glaring eyes, his gleaming gold teeth, his frowziness of a difficult invalid, his grimaces and gestures which were the result of a lifetime devoted to gain, he made a loathsome object. Edwin hated him, and there was a bitter contempt in his hatred.
“I’m going to have that spawn, and I’m going to have some change! Give me some money!” Darius positively hissed.
Edwin grew nearly capable of homicide. All the wrongs that he had suffered leaped up and yelled.
“You’ll have no money!” he said, with brutal roughness. “And you’ll grow no mushrooms! And let that be understood once for all! You’ve got to behave in this house.”
Darius flickered up.