Valerest said: “That’s it! Vent your bad-temper on poor little Mr. Tuppy!”
Valentine looked at Valerest.
“I see,” said Valentine quietly. Very quietly. “Oh, I see!”
And worse. Much worse. Very quietly.
“I suppose you think,” said Valerest, “that because I’m your wife you can say anything you like to me. You’re wrong.”
“I think,” said Valentine, “that because you’re my wife you ought to behave like my wife. And I’m right.”
And then he left the room. And then he left the house. And then the house was very still.
Valerest, sitting very straight in her chair, heard the front-door slam. She listened. Through the open window behind her came the sound of manly footsteps marching away down South Street. She listened. Away the footsteps marched, away. Then a taxi screamed, and the incident of the manly footsteps was closed forever.
“Well, that’s that!” said Valerest.
“Yap!” said Mr. Tuppy.