'Stand here till I find the light,' she murmured.
It was the pantry.
She opened the ice-box, produced milk and cold meat. In a tin box was chocolate cake.
'I oughtn't to let you,' he said weakly. 'I knew you were angry to-day there——'
'But, Henry, they could hear you! Thomas and William. Don't you see——'
'That wasn't all,' he broke in excitedly. 'It was my asking for an understanding.'
She was bending over a drawer, rummaging for knife and fork.
'No, it wasn't that,' she said.
'I'd like to know what it was, then!'
'It was—oh, please, Henry, don't ever talk that way about money again.'