Herbert answered her airily.
“Well, there will be light refreshments later.”
“Yes, that is worthy of you,” cried Clare. “That is your sense of humor! You have starved my soul and starved my heart and you offer me—sandwiches. I am hungry for life and you offer me—the latest novel.”
Herbert paced up and down the room. He was losing control of his temper.
“That is the reward for all my devotion!” he said. “Don’t I drudge in the city every day to keep you in comfort?”
“I don’t want comfort!” said Clare.
“Don’t I toil so that you may have pretty frocks?”
“I don’t want pretty frocks.”
“Don’t I scrape and scheme to buy you little luxuries?”
“I don’t want little luxuries,” said Clare.