"You can't mean that you're going into business!" she returned, as she passed him a dish of steaming pudding.
There was a suggestion of last night's scorn in her incredulity.
"No?… And why not?"
She cast a sidelong glance at him. "That takes money," she objected.
He knew now, from her tone, what was behind the veil of her intimations and he found a curious new pleasure in watching her squirm.
"Oh, well," he half mused, "I guess we'll struggle through somehow.
We've always managed to."
She leaned one elbow heavily on the table. "More economies, I suppose!"
He had trapped her too easily! It was his turn to be cutting. "Don't worry!… I sha'n't ask you to do without any more than you've done without so far. If you can stand it as it is awhile longer, why …" He broke off with a shrug.
Her eyes swam in a sudden mist. "You're not fair!" she sniffed. "I'm thinking as much of you as I am of myself. Going into business isn't only a question of money. There are anxieties and worry … and … and …" She recovered herself swiftly and looked at him with clear, though reproachful, eyes. "I'm always willing to help … you know that!"
He melted at once. There was a moment of silence, and then he told her everything … about Brauer, and what they purposed.