“Frauenlaunen? Women’s whims! I’ve no patience with them,” he began.
“I think you ought to have told me,” cried Brenda.
“Told you what?”
“Told me that you had commissioned your mother to take this flat and choose these atrocious papers and carpets. I could have explained that I wanted to choose my own.”
“August is right,” said Lothar. “There is too much ‘my’ in your point of view. This is not your house. It is mine. You are in it because you are my wife. If I am satisfied, nothing else matters.”
“I could not live with these walls. I shall have them all redone at my own expense.”
“You will not have one done. I will not permit you to waste our joint income in such a senseless way. You have married a man and not a milksop, and the sooner you find it out the better.”
“But surely I am to have money of my own. My father said so.”
“It will be spent as I direct.”
“Well ... I hope we sha’n’t quarrel about money.”