"Then let him get it from you!"
"Not if I know it!"
"Well, I don't care where he gets it from. This story is ruinous—ruinous! This story hits directly at me! If this is published it would be impossible for me to go on living with George!"
"Bravo, Maud!" thought Evan. "You're some actress! What a bombshell I could explode in this room if I wanted to!"
Maud's parting shot was: "At ten o'clock when the bank opens I will take you there myself in the car."
When she had gone the wretched George mumbled to his father: "No use my going to the bank. I'm overdrawn there. I can't ask for another loan unless you'll guarantee it."
"Not another cent! Not another cent! Let 'em publish and be damned!" He shuffled out of the room.
Evan could not but feel sorry for the unfortunate George, though his pity was mixed with contempt. George's first impulse was to apologise for his wife.
"You must make allowances," he said. "Mrs. Deaves is so dreadfully upset by this matter."
"So I see," said Evan dryly.