"I said I have made a terrible mistake. I can't stand being married to you."
He came toward her with the open side of his collar jerking like an old door on its hinges.
"Now lookahere," he said, rather roughly for him; "it's all right for a woman to have her whims once in a while, but there are limits. I've been as considerate with you as I know how to be. A darn sight more than many a man with his woman."
"I'm not that!" she cried, springing to her feet.
"What?"
"That! Your—that!"
"Call it what you want," he said, "all I know is that you're my wife and I married you to settle down to a decent, self-respecting home life and that a sensible woman leaves her whims behind her."
She stood with her hands to the beat of her throat, looking at him as if he had hunted her into her corner, which he had not.
"Let me go," she said.
He seemed trying to gain control of his large, loose hands, clenching and unclenching them.