“Yes. Still, it’s the address that matters at the moment. The rest can wait till we see how the play goes. Just now I need all the money I can get for my own pocket. It’s essential. It’s bare and uncomfortable; but I have the club, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“I haven’t a club,” flashed Eve, and repented the words almost before she had spoken them.
Wynne looked at her fixedly.
“Lord!” he exclaimed, “we are not going to start that sort of thing, are we?”
Something in the quality of his voice struck her with startling force. It was so much more a “married” tone than she remembered to have heard before. The petulant child note had disappeared, and with its disappearance the mother note in her own voice wrapped itself up in sudden hardness.
She held his eyes with hers.
“I bargained for a share,” she said. “Am I getting it?”
He wilted, and his head tossed from side to side.
“What is all this about?”
“Am I getting my share?” repeated Eve, more kindly. “You know if I am. Answer ‘Yes,’ if you honestly think so.”