“Why not? We have nothing in the house. Why didn’t you borrow?”
“I—didn’t want to.”
“Why not? Has the worm turned?”
“I didn’t ask him.”
“Just philandering, eh? Noble, high-minded philandering? A few tears and so on, for him to pity you? So that he’ll pay without being asked? Hypocrite! Coward! Oh, you cheap, cheap worthless little coward!”
“Lawrence!” she said. “Don’t be so unkind!”
“You’re not unkind, are you? Eh? You try to make a fool of me in the most charitable possible way. Eh? It doesn’t touch my heart, fair Rosaleen, because I don’t care a fig for you, but I have still a vestige of pride left! Enough to curse you!” he ended, with sudden ferocity.
“Lawrence! You musn’t say that! You know I don’t make a—You know that I’m—loyal to you, always.”
“You lie. You sit there and tell that puppy how badly I treat you. He thinks you’re a martyr and I’m a bully. I’ve seen it this long time. The next time you see him you’ll recount this scene, eh?”