"Oh, I know all about it—that husband of yours has cleared out with another woman. But I don't see you're so much the worse for that. You've got your income from the old man! 'Fact, I reckon you've done pretty well for yourself!"
"I am glad you think so," she said bitterly. "Further than as a kind of banker, an orange to be squeezed, you will never understand what I am. Of what my life has been you can have no idea. You are utterly heartless, brutally callous."
"Oh, stow all that preaching, Miriam, and come to the point."
"That means how much have I got, I suppose? Understand then, Jabez, once for all, this is the last money I give you, and I give it you on one condition only—that you never come near me again!"
"Oh, all right, no need to bother about that. How much is it?"
"Thirty pounds is all I have."
"Lord! what do you do with it all?—you never seem to have much about you. Wonder I do come near you—it's not worth it I'm sure."
His tone had roused her.
"You worthless scoundrel," she said, "to speak to me like that after all I have done for you. There is not one woman in a thousand but would have turned her back on you long since—criminal that you are!"
"Should advise you to drop that! If it comes to who's the criminal there's not much to choose between us anyway. How about thieving, eh?—who stole old Barton's will? Oh, I know all about you, my lady. Why, Shorty saw you do the whole trick."