Edith remonstrated: “Why do you do so, Arthur?”
He answered her coarsely, like an undisciplined youth: “I do not think I need a keeper!”
Edith burst into tears: “I did not mean that; but you know—that—that—I am lonely when you are away,” she faltered.
A half-frightened look passed over his face, and was gone instantly, to be succeeded by a perplexed scowl.
“You act as though you owned me!” he said brutally.
Edith regarded him in pained surprise: “Arthur!” The single word expressed much.
He left the house, slamming the door after himself.
He began about this time assuming control of the business; things seemed to go wrong from that hour, and he appeared to have lost all judgment; heavy losses followed in rapid succession. He angrily resented advice, and Gus became so annoyed that he took him to task.
“See here, old man! You are going it a bit wild—you had best check up!”
Arthur’s moody eyes lit up with an angry flame: “Any person would think that you had the whole say so,” he sneered.