“Freeman,” Henrietta said.
“My God! Again? What is it now?” he asked.
“What is it now? Throwing the blame for your thievery on that poor boy! Hasn't he enough to bear without that? You are low—that is the only name for it—low!”
“Fine! Fine and oratorical and everything, Et!” Freeman said carelessly. “Only—I did not throw any blame on him. Not that I care, you know,” he added.
“Freeman, don't lie to me. You put that money in his pocket.”
“Oh, no, I did n't!” Freeman laughed, and he held up Miss Susan's bank-notes. “I need this money. And I have this money, and I am going to keep this money.”
“I don't understand,” said Henrietta. “How did you get it again? Did you take it from her a second time?”
“Oh, quit it!” Freeman said disgustedly. “Don't be stupid. This is not the money Lem had. I've had this all the while. I don't know where the little devil got his. What does it matter? Maybe she had two wads. What do I care?”
“I care,” Henrietta said.
“I'm going to clear out,” Freeman said. “Last you'll ever see of me.”