“My dear, I see that you know very little about business,” he replied laughingly, “or else you would understand that when one speculates as I do, no one knows—not even myself—just what I am worth.”
“You’re right—I know nothing whatever about business,” she pouted childishly. “I’m only trying, in my poor little way, to prevent you from doing yourself a great injustice.”
“An injustice?”
“Yes! Oh my dear! You’re so wonderful—so generous—that you never even stop to consider yourself for a moment! No, you mustn’t interrupt me,” as she leaned across the table, and gave him a gentle pat on the hand. “You’ve been an ideal husband and father all these years. It isn’t your fault if you have been misunderstood by your wife, and unappreciated by your son. Then why should you, at your time of life, beggar yourself so that your money may be recklessly squandered by an irresponsible boy?”
“But I’m not making a settlement upon Howard. It’s Marjorie I’m——”
“Hugh! You’re as gullible as a child!” she smiled. “Don’t you know she will give every dollar she possesses to Howard, especially after you disinherited him because he sided with her.”
“I never thought of that,” he acknowledged comprehendingly. “You’re absolutely right. It is precisely what she would do.”
“Just how much did you promise to—give her?” she asked eagerly.
“I told her I would give her three-quarters of my possessions if she would consent to grant me my freedom.”
“You—you—” She dug her finger-nails deep into her palm. Rage flamed inwardly in spite of her efforts at self-control and her soft-spoken words—“liberal, big-hearted darling! That is just what I would have expected you to do—without once giving yourself a thought!”