"I can't make out what your father's got against me," said George angrily, building his vexation on her benevolence. "What have I done, I should like to know."
"It's simply because you lived there all that time without him knowing we were engaged. He says if he'd known he would never have let you stay there a day." She smiled, mournfully, forgivingly, excusingly.
"But it's preposterous!"
"Oh! It is."
"And how does he behave to you ? Is he treating you decently?"
"Oh! Fairly. You see, he's got a lot to get over. And he's most frightfully upset about—his wife. Well, you saw him yourself, didn't you?"
"That's no reason why he should treat you badly."
"But he doesn't, George!"
"Oh! I know! I know! Do you think I don't know? He's not even decent to you. I can hear it in your voice. Why should you go back and live with him if he isn't prepared to appreciate it?"
"But he expects it, George. And what am I to do? He's all alone. I can't leave him all alone, can I?"