“We must let the stove people know—”
“How are you going to do that on Sunday?”
“Oh—ah—well, it matters less I suppose on Sunday than if it happened on a week-day.”
“It won’t matter in the least, of course, to have no hot water to wash the clothes in, Monday morning. Perhaps you’ll think it matters more when it comes to eating cold things for I don’t know how long.”
“I think you’ll find I shall be able to put up with—”
“Yes, it’s perfectly true, I always find you readier to put up with disaster than to struggle against it.”
“How would you propose I should struggle against a broken stove?”
She turned her flushed face from him.
“Didn’t I tell you not to kick the table?” she demanded of Jack.
“Oh! Yes ’m. I forgot.” He curled up the disgraced foot underneath him, for a reminder that it was to keep still.