“Much obliged for your thoughtfulness. Something is the matter, though. It feels as if it had been scalped.”
“I only shaved it, dear Roger. That’s all.”
“That’s all!” he gasped. “By the jumping jupiter! ain’t that enough? What in Tophet did I marry you for, I wonder?”
“Because you loved me.”
“That’s all bosh. I never cared a rap for you.” He laughed harshly, enjoying the look of pain and fear upon her face.
“Then you did not even love me when you were courting me?”
“Not a picaune. I’ve got a yellow girl home I care more for than I do for you. How do you like that?”
Mary buried her face in her hands and sobbed bitterly. Her idol’s coarse, brutal character stood fully revealed. The thin veneer was brushed like a cobweb from the rotten porous wood, exposing the architect’s poor carpentering.
“I will go home to my grandfather,” she sobbed.
“All right, go. You’ve got my full consent, but remember, you can’t take a cent of your sixty thousand pounds along. That became mine when you did, and I mean to hold on to it.”