"Dick," she said quietly but resolutely, "I must have my share."
"Then you'll jolly well wait for it.... Look here. Shut up. I'm not going to be nagged at. Be damned to your share. You don't want it."
"Yes, I do want it—I have relied on it."
"Oh, you're all right. You've plenty of money stowed away somewhere."
"On my honour, I have no money available."
"Available! That's a good word. That means funds that you don't intend to touch. Prices on change are down, are they?—and you don't care to realise just now?"
She looked at him steadily and unflinchingly. Her eyebrows were contracted; her face had hardened.
"Dick, this isn't fair. It is something that I can't allow," and she spoke slowly and significantly. "Please pull yourself together. You can't go on doing things of this sort. They are dangerous."
"Will you shut up, and stop nagging?"
It was by no means the first time that he had stuck to money when it should have passed through his hands to hers. Indeed in all their private transactions, whenever a chance offered, he had promptly cheated her. But during the last six months it had come to her knowledge that he was not confining his trickery to transactions which could be considered as outside the business.