He laughed rather harshly.
"No, I did not marry you for your money."
"Of course not. You have some of your own—enough—"
"And to spare, if you needed it, John."
"You are very kind, my dear," replied Darche with a scarcely perceptible touch of contempt in his tone. "I shall survive without borrowing money of my wife."
"I hope you may never need to borrow of any one," said Marion.
She turned to the table again and began arranging a few scattered notes and papers to conceal her annoyance at his tone, hoping that her inoffensive answer might soon have the effect of sending him away, as was usually the case. But Darche was not quite in his ordinary state. He was tired, irritable, and greedy for opposition, as men are whose nerves are overwrought and who do not realise the fact, because they are not used to it, and it is altogether new to them.
"I am tired of 'yea, yea.' Change the conversation, please, and say 'nay, nay.' It would make a little variety."
"Do you object to my agreeing with you? I am sorry. It is not always easy to guess what you would like. I am quite ready to give up trying, if you say so. We can easily arrange our lives differently, if you prefer it."
"How do you mean?"