‘Now, Frankie, we have had about enough of this nonsense,’ said she. ‘Don’t imagine that you are going to get out of this thing so easily. I’ve got you, and I’ll keep you.’
He faced round in his chair and looked helplessly at her with a hand upon each knee.
‘O Lord! Don’t begin it all over again,’ said he.
‘No, I won’t,’ she answered with an angry laugh. ‘I’ll try another line this time, Master Frank. I’m not the sort of woman who lets a thing go easily when once I have set my heart upon it. I won’t try coaxing any longer—’
‘So glad,’ he murmured.
‘You may say what you like, but you can’t do it, my boy. I knew you before she did, and I’ll keep you, or else I’ll make such a row that you will be sorry that you ever put my back up. It’s all very fine to sit there and preach, but it won’t do, Frankie. You can’t slip out of things as easily as all that.’
‘Why should you turn nasty like this, Violet? What do you think you will gain by it?’
‘I mean to gain you. I like you, Frankie. I’m not sure that I don’t really love you—real, real love, you know. Any way, I don’t intend to let you go, and if you go against my will I give you my word that I shall make it pretty sultry for you down at Woking.’
He stared moodily into his teacup.
‘Besides, what rot it all is!’ she continued, laying her hand upon his shoulder. ‘When did you begin to ride the high moral horse? You were just as cheerful as the rest of them when last I saw you. You speak as if a man ceased to live just because he is married. What has changed you?’