"I wish Miss Bird would go," put in Mr Maybury.
"And you can see Mr Jefferson doesn't like him," continued Mrs Maybury, "with half an eye. Mr Jefferson!--the man to whom you are indebted for your daily bread!"
"I'm employed by his father," objected Mr Maybury.
"It's all the same. Mr Jefferson got you your post. Suppose he told his father that you were harbouring a man who fights policemen and gets drunk----"
"His father would say that that was my business," rejoined Mr Maybury.
"Well, we can't risk keeping him here. It's too dangerous. I've no objection to the young man myself----"
"Then why d'you go on about him so much?" retorted Mr Maybury.
"For the sake of our home and its reputation," almost shrieked Mrs Maybury, "that's why. Here I work and slave and get no thanks--not a word of thanks--and then, when I express an opinion, you snap my head off. It's more than flesh and blood can stand!" she concluded, dissolving into tears.
"Suppose," said Mr Maybury, placidly, "we discuss the matter in the morning?"
"I won't say another word," cried Mrs Maybury, between her sobs; "I've said all I have to say. If you keep this man here, he'll take our good name away. There--now I've done!"