“Your gettin’ upset like this,” he answered apologetically. “I honestly did pretty near hope it, Lena. It seemed to me we’d maybe kind of reached a turning point and could get along all right together, now Henry’s come to us.”
“Maybe we have reached a turning point,” she said. “I suppose it’s generally considered quite a turning point when a wife leaves her husband for just cause, isn’t it?”
“Oh, dear me!” Dan sighed, and sat down heavily on the side of his bed, taking his head between his hands. “I guess we’ve got to go through another of ’em.”
“Another of what?”
“Another of these troubles,” he sighed. “Well, what’s this one all about, Lena?”
She came toward him angrily. “I’d like to know what you’d think of any other man that treated his wife as you do me! What would you say of any other man who went out the very night his child was born and did what you did?”
“Why, I didn’t do anything,” he said, and looked up at her, surprised.
“You didn’t? Don’t you call it anything to go to see that woman at midnight?”
“You mean our goin’ in to Martha’s?” Dan asked, his surprise increasing. “It wasn’t midnight; it was about ten o’clock, and we only stayed a few minutes—half an hour maybe. I just wanted to tell her about the baby.”
“Yes, so I hear,” Lena returned bitterly. “You took particularly good care not to mention that little call to me afterwards!”