Now you mustn't let yourself worry--there's anxiety enough without that, heaven knows.

Why, just look at father! He has lost almost all he ever had--he is simply staving off failure for I don't know how long, and yet from mother's manner who on earth would suspect that there is anything wrong?
Now that's what I call pluck.

By Jove--" Again her impetuous spirit--dangerous gift!--flashed out recklessly in defence of the truth.
"Then why don't you try to help your father, George ?" she asked.

"He tells me that you rarely go down to the office." Her voice vibrated, but the stern lines of her mouth, which had lost its rich softness under the stress of her anger, hardly quivered.
His frown darkened to a scowl.

The calm disdain in her manner made him feel that he hated her, and he told himself stubbornly that if she had been gentler, if she had been more womanly, he would have done what she asked of him, forgetting in his rage that, if she had been these things, he would have found even less difficulty in refusing her.
"You know as well as I do that I can't stand office work when I'm not fit," he returned sullenly.