“Do you think I am made of money? How do you expect me to buy coffee?”
“With the money you would otherwise spend for drink.”
“Stop that, will you?” said Trafton angrily. “I’m tired of it.”
A moment later he said in a milder tone:
“When I get that money of Robert’s I will buy a pound of coffee.”
Mrs. Trafton said nothing.
“Do you know where he has hidden it?” asked her husband after drinking a cup of the tea which he had so decried.
“No.”
“Didn’t he tell you where he was going to put it?”
“No.”