Quard's eyes clouded under the impact of this counter attack. Momentarily his dazed expression made it very plain that he had taken advantage of her absence to drink heavily. And this was even more plain in the blurred accents, robbed of the sharpness rage had lent them, in which he endeavoured to justify himself.
"I wanted—shew on s'pender button—wanted work-basket...."
Anger returned; his voice mounted: "And I found this! What is it?"
Joan snatched at the ring, but he drew back his hand too quickly for her.
"It's mine. Give it to me!"
"Where'd you get it? Tha'sh what I wanna know!"
"None of your business. Give it—"
"T' hell it ain't my business. I'm your husband—gotta right to know where you get diamonds"—he sneered—"diamonds like this! I never bought it."
"No," she flamed back; "you're too stingy!"
"Stingy, am I?" He faltered swaying. "Tha'snough. I'm tightwad, so s'nother guy gets chansh to buy you diamonds. Tha's way of it, hey?"