“Never, if I depended on you to supply the vittles!” she answered, bluntly.
“Don't speak so before a stranger,” said Barton, with a hiccough. “You hurt my feelin's.”
“Your feelin's are tough, and so are mine by this time.”
“What have you got there?”
“Some sassiges. Ef you want your share, you'll have to be on time. I shan't save you any.”
“How much money did the man pay you, Mrs. B.?”
“That's my business!” retorted his wife, shortly.
“Mrs. B.,” said her husband, straightening up, “I want you to understand that I'm the master of this house, and it's my right to take care of the money. You'll oblige me by handin' it over.”
“I'll do nothing of the sort, Joel Barton! You'd only spend it for drink.”
“Would you grudge me the few pennies I spend for drink? My system requires it. That's what the doctor says.”