"I mean that you are a swindler!" he shouted, banging one fist on the table and waving the other.
She acted as though his meaning were just dawning upon her. "Do you mean," said she tranquilly, "that you married me for money?"
"I mean that I thought you a substantial woman, and that I find you are an adventuress."
"Did you think," inquired she, "that any woman who had money would marry YOU?" She laughed very quietly. "You ARE a fool!"
He sat back to look at her. This mode of combat in such circumstances puzzled him.
"I knew that you were rich," she went on, "or you would not have dared offer yourself to me. All my friends were amazed at my stooping to accept you. Your father was an Irish Tammany contractor, wasn't he?—a sort of criminal? But I simply had to marry. So I gave you my family and position and name in exchange for your wealth—a good bargain for you, but a poor one for me."
These references to HIS wealth were most disconcerting, especially as they were accompanied by remarks about his origin, of which he was so ashamed that he had changed the spelling of his name in the effort to clear himself of it. However, some retort was imperative. He looked at her and said:
"Swindler and adventuress!"
"Don't repeat that lie," said she. "You are the adventurer—despite the fact that you are very rich."
"Don't say that again," cried he. "I never said or pretended I was rich. I have about five thousand a year—and you'll not get a cent of it, madam!"