Bruce knew the tone.
“All right—go,” he answered coldly, “but first I want you to tell me why.”
A flame of anger leaped into Toy’s eyes; his whole face worked; he was stirred to the centre of his being.
“She kick on me!” he hissed. “She say I no can cook!”
Instantly Bruce understood. Jennings’s bride had been guilty of the one unforgivable offense. His own eyes flashed.
“Tell her to keep out of the kitchen.”
Toy shook his head.
“I no likee her; I no stay.”
“Won’t you stay if I ask you as a favor?”
The Chinaman reiterated in his stubborn monotone: