“Because I’m afraid you’ll make him angry if you refuse.”
“I can’t help it if he is angry,” answered Robert. “He has no right to be. Don’t you know what he said—that he wanted to pay a dollar to the tavern keeper?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Jones shall never get a cent of that money,” said Robert firmly.
“But, Robert,” said his aunt nervously, “your uncle may beat you.”
“Then I’ll keep my distance from him.”
“I would rather he would have the money than that you should get hurt, Robert.”
“Aunt Jane, I am going to take the risk of that. Though he is my uncle and your husband, there’s one thing I can’t help saying: It is a contemptibly mean thing not only to use all his own earnings for drink, but to try to get hold of what little I get for the same purpose.”
“I don’t deny it, Robert. I don’t pretend to defend my husband. Once he was different, but drink has changed his whole nature. I never had any reason to complain before he took to drink.”
“No doubt of it, aunt, but that don’t alter present circumstances. I have no respect for my uncle when he acts as he has to-night. Come what may, there’s one thing I am determined upon—he shan’t have the money.”