“I earned enough honestly,” replied Carroll. He had a strangely straightforward, almost boyish way of meeting her sharp gaze.
“How?”
“You had better not press the matter, Anna.”
“I do. I am afraid.” She responded to his look with a certain bitter, sarcastic insistence. “I have reason to be,” said she. “You know I have, Arthur Carroll. We are all on the edge of a precipice, but I, for one, do not intend to let you drag me over, and I do not intend that Amy and the children shall go, either, if I can help it. I want to know where you got the money to pay for the wedding expenses, and I want to know where you got that pearl ring you gave Ina. It never cost a cent under three hundred dollars.”
Carroll, looking at her, smiled a little sadly.
“It was then,” said she, “Hart Lee's pearl that he left you when he died—your scarf-pin.”
Carroll smiled. Anna's face changed a little.
“I noticed that you had not worn it lately,” said she.
“Sooner or later it would have been the child's. It might as well be sooner,” said Carroll, with a slightly annoyed air.
“Eddy should have had it,” Anna said, with a jealous air.