She hesitated. "Don't be angry," pleaded she in a voice that faltered. "But I must go."
Into his eyes came the gleam of distrust and jealousy. "Look at me," he ordered.
With some difficulty she forced her eyes to meet his.
"Have you got a lover?"
"No."
"Then where do you get the money we're living on?" He counted on her being too humiliated to answer in words. Instead of the hanging head and burning cheeks he saw clear, steady eyes, heard a calm, gentle and dignified voice say:
"In the streets."
His eyes dropped and a look of abject shame made his face pitiable. "Good Heavens," he muttered.
"How low we are!"
"We've been doing the best we could," said she simply.