She picked it up.

A glance showed her a total of figures that made her gasp.
"Here is your bill," she said with a strange choke in her voice, and left the room.
"He can spend sixty dollars on his old guns; but he can't afford to let me leave this hateful house," she complained to the apple tree.

"He can go 'way off camping somewhere to have a good time, but he leaves me sweltering in this miserable little town all summer.

I don't care if he IS supporting me.

He ought to.