Half of them were not meant for me." The lie was so foolish, so ineffectual and without excuse, that he flinched and turned his eyes away--for the shame of it seemed to belong less to her than to himself.

At the instant he was conscious of a stinging sensation in his veins as of a man who realises for the first time that he has fallen into dishonour.
"I did not mean to mention that--at least not now," he said quickly.
"We'll call it off and try to keep clean out of debt in the future.

I fear your allowance does seem rather shabby to you, but it can't be helped.

It takes every cent of the balance to run the house and pay my life insurance." He waited an instant, hoping that his matter-of-fact statement of the situation--his freedom from implied reproach--might call forth some expression, however slight, of her appreciation.

But her glance flashed over him, critical, disapproving, and he became aware, through a wonder of intuition, that even at the moment she was possessed by her passion for externals, was weighing his personal details as he stood in the lamp light, and deciding impartially that he made but a poor physical showing.