"I'd thank John Burke to mind his own business," I cried hotly. "He doesn't have to come here unless he wants to."
"There is only one way," she went on, as if speaking to herself, pacing the floor and fanning herself violently—for her face, and especially her nose, was as red as a beet; she really laces disgracefully—"there's only one way; I must fall ill at once. I must have nervous prostration, or—it's nearly June. I shall leave town. Heavens! What a night!"
"You're assuming a great deal. Our arrangements were made by two, and are hardly to be broken by one. You can't agree to matronize me—let me buy furniture for you, and then abandon me, cut off my social opportunities—leave me—"
"Social opportunity! Social collapse! Disgrace! Why, your prospects were really extraordinary. But now! Where was Meg to-night? Where was Mrs. Marmaduke? Why did my own sister-in-law stay away?"
"I don't know; do you?"
Her harangue begun, she couldn't stop. "Where's Strathay?" she demanded. "Gone; and no announcement—what was the matter? Needn't tell me you refused him! And why is the letter box always full of duns? Can't you pay your bills? Why didn't you say so earlier? Would have saved us both a deal of trouble!"
"I didn't tell you I had money."
"You played the part, ordering dresses fit for a Duchess, and things for the flat. You spent enough on a wedding gift for Peggy—or was it a promise to spend?—to support a family a month—peace offering because you'd abused her!—Of course if you'd made the great success everybody expected, you'd be on the top wave, and so should I. I don't deny I thought of that. But now—an evening like this—no women worth counting and a horde of men—well, it's bad enough for me, but it's worse for you. No one'll say I brought 'em."
"Oh, no," I assented.
"It comes to this, then," she went on at full heat, flushing and fanning herself still more violently; "either you or I must leave this house, and at once."