"At you."
"Well, and what do you make of me?"
"What I've made of you ever since the day I married you."
"For better or worse, eh?"
"For worse, every minute of my life," she retorted. "I wonder why the Lord allows some people to live."
"Here, that's enough of your mag, with your Lord and your Lord! What's your Lord done for me? Off you go, now!"
But Mrs. Flower was not so easily disposed of.
"Have you brought home any money?" she asked.
"Money! How should I get money?"
"Why work for it, like other men, you----" She repressed herself, and, with a flaming face, arranged the clothes she had washed.