“Satisfied?” Richmond, white with rage, shook his hand in her very face. “Satisfied? With the only one of my family that was worth while gone—you talk about my being satisfied!”
“Then why did you drive her out?” inquired she coldly.
Richmond flung out his arms in a vague, wild gesture, and rushed to the open window.
“You might go to Kinnear’s and talk with her,” suggested his wife.
“Say what?” demanded Richmond over his shoulder.
“How should I know?”
He wheeled round. “Are you on her side or on mine?”
“Oh, I’m just a fool,” said Lucy.
Richmond’s scowl at her changed to a scowl into vacancy. The scowl faded into a mere stare. Suddenly he burst out in a voice from which grief had washed every trace of anger: “I’ve got to have her back! I’ve got to have her back.”
Mrs. Richmond’s expression of amazement slowly yielded to one of sullen jealousy. “That’s right,” sneered she. “Go and apologize to her. Knuckle down to her.”