“Oh yes, I believe you,” he replied. “But I've never thought half a loaf better than no bread, my dear.”
Chapter Seventeen
Upon the following morning, his inebriety having worn off, Roger cheerfully explained his condition as having been due to enforced abstinence for so long. This roused Kenneth to tell him exactly how many bottles of whisky he had consumed since his arrival at the studio, but Roger merely said: “Well, you don't call that anything, do you?” and the conversation dropped.
Violet came in soon after breakfast, a circumstance which induced Kenneth, still in a bitter mood, to ask her savagely whether she ever did any work at all. He himself was in his overall, scowling at the half-finished canvas on the easel. Violet refused to take offence at his tone, and replied that she had already sent off a couple of fashion drawings by post, and thought that she was entitled to a holiday.
“I see,” said Kenneth. “Devoting it to me, of course.”
“No, dear, I'm not,” replied Violet calmly. “You are far too disagreeable, let me tell you. I'm going to try and fix your half-brother up in a place of his own.”
“Sweet of you, my pet. I hope he'll appreciate all this pure altruism.”
Violet stood for a moment, her lips slightly compressed. The she walked across the room to Kenneth's side, and laid her hand on his arm. “Kenneth dear, will you try and be reasonable?” she begged. “We must get Roger away from here. He's making you impossible to live with. You know quite well he'll never move unless he's made to, and if neither you nor Tony will do anything about it, it's up to me. I think you might be a little grateful, I must say.”
“You're doing it for what you can get out of him,” said Kenneth.
She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Well, what if I am? Why shouldn't he do something for us? I don't want to be poor, if you do.”