Howard paled suddenly and fixed his eyes upon me.
"And what will you do with it?" he asked, after a minute.
"Well," I answered, without reflection, "I thought you would like two thousand to send home and get rid of that half-yearly interest."
The blood dyed all his face suddenly crimson, and he brought down his feet upon the fender with a crash.
"I wish to hell you'd wait till I asked you for it!" he said savagely, springing up and crossing to the window.
There he stood looking out with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. I was fairly startled, and the colour rose uncomfortably in my own face.
It seemed, I almost felt, as if I had done something excessively ill-bred. But Howard and I were on such intimate terms, and made so little account of what we said to each other, that I had expressed the thought uppermost in my mind at the moment of his question as a matter of course. Then, too, he borrowed so constantly and so freely from me that the idea of offence over money matters or mentioning them seemed quite impossible.
"No," I thought, glancing at him as he still stood between me and the light; "there must be something else in his mind," and I wondered.
He was seldom out of temper, and seldom made himself disagreeable to me. In conversation, in all our life together, he generally yielded to me with an almost womanly compliance. His present tone and manner were absolutely new to me. I did not understand them, and I liked him well enough to take the trouble to get up after a second and follow him to the window.
"Howard," I said gently, "what is the matter? I am sorry if I have annoyed you."