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“I haven’t really, Eve. I’ve crawled about. But to-day I got talking, and——”

“Why,” said Eve, “should I believe you? What does it matter whether I do or not? Day in, day out, I try to do what you want. I’m sick and tired of trying to do your will. Yet I keep on because it amuses you—amuses you to see me cramp my style. God knows why. It’s a funny form of love. But that’s by the way. I try. I sweat and grunt and slave—for peace in our time.... And you stand over me and keep my nose to the stone.... I’m not like that. It wouldn’t amuse me to put you through the hoop. Only one wretched favour I’ve ever asked: and that I asked because I loved you.”

“I know,” said Broke. “I’m sorry. I’ve no excuse. But don’t lay on so hard, Eve. You know it doesn’t amuse me to——”

“Then why do you do it?” said Eve. “Don’t say ‘Out of love,’ or I shall burst.”

“I do what I do,” said Broke, “because I want you to get the most out of Life.”

“Oh, let us pray.”

Jeremy bit his lip.

“You do it,” continued his wife, “to assert your authority. If the money was yours and not mine, you’d have the whip-hand. As it isn’t, you play the priest, trade on my better feelings, take advantage of my love—I didn’t marry you for that, you know.”