"He lies! He lies!"
"Oh, let up—let up! I'm no fool."
"Tom Braddock, are you—are you accusing me?" she cried, all a-tremble.
He opened his lips to utter the words which would have ended everything between them. His eyes met hers and the words slipped back into his throat. The spark of manhood that was left in him revolted against this wanton assault upon the pure soul that looked out upon him.
His gaze was lowered. He began fumbling in his pocket for a cigar.
"Course not," he said reluctantly. He peered hard at the opaque sidewall uncomfortably conscious of the scornful look she bent upon him. Neither spoke for a long time.
"How much lower can you sink?" she asked in low tones.
"Don't you turn against me like this," he returned sullenly.
"I have endured too long—too long," she said lifelessly.
"Now, shut up, Mary. Shut up your trap. I'm sick of having you whining all the time—"