"But what on earth happened?" Nan's voice was very gentle.
"Absolutely nothing. My father and I had a little chat about life and eternity. How silly, I'm getting all worked up talking about it. O, I suppose I'd better tell you to get it off my system. It's not a bit important. I laid on for life and he laid on for eternity ... Naturally, being a clergyman eternity is his line of goods. We got sore. I'm never going to take anything more from him, either his money or his insolence."
"But how are you going to live?" cried Fanshaw.
"What the hell? I've got as much muscle as the next man."
"But you're so impractical, Wenny."
"It must have been more than that. How did it start?" said Nan, tapping with her patent leather toe at a loose board.
"It started ..." There was a catch in Wenny's voice. Then gruffly: "He said something unpleasant about a snapshot I had on my desk. It's too ridiculous."
"But you'll have to give up your M. A.," went on Fanshaw.
"Damn good thing, too. I was just hanging round the Anthropology department in the hope of getting in on an expedition to South America."
And Wenny owes me a hundred dollars, the thought crept unexpectedly into Fanshaw's mind. Never get it now.