This was what Jim sorely needed, some unjust accusation to spur him out of his shame. He sprang to his feet and confronted his father.
“Don't you dare say a word against my wife.”
“Oh, look at him!” his father smiled. “He's grown so big he can lick his old dad. Well, let me tell you, my young jackanapes, that if anybody has said anything against your wife it was you.”
“What have I said?”
“You've said that you married her secretly. You've not dared to let us see her first. You've not dared to announce your engagement and take her to the church like a gentleman. Why? Why? Answer me that, before you grow so tall. And who is she, anyway? I hear that you had a prize-fight with Peter Cheever and got expelled from the club.”
“When did you hear that?”
“It's all over town. What was the fight about? Was he interested in this lady, too?”
One set of Jim's muscles leaped to the attack; another set held them in restraint.
“Be careful, dad!” he groaned. “Peter Cheever never met my wife.”
“Well, then, what were you fighting him about?”