His anger deepened and reddened to fury. He choked. He had started from his chair with his napkin in his hand. He still clutched it. Now he crumpled it into a wad and hurled it to the centre of the table, where it struck a sugar bowl, dropped back, and uncrumpled slowly, reprovingly. "You--you--" Then bewilderment closed down again like a fog over his countenance. "But why? I can't see--" "Because it--because I can't stand it any longer. Flapping. This is what you do. Like this." And she did it. Did it with insulting fidelity, being a clever mimic. "Well, all I can say is you're crazy, yelling like that, for nothing." "It isn't nothing." "Isn't, huh? If that isn't nothing, what is?" They were growing incoherent. "What d'you mean, screeching like a maniac? Like a wild woman? The neighbours'll think I've killed you. What d'you mean, anyway!" "I mean I'm tired of watching it, that's what. Sick and tired." "Y'are, huh? Well, young lady, just let me tell _you_ something--" He told her. There followed one of those incredible quarrels, as sickening as they are human, which can take place only between two people who love each other; who love each other so well that each knows with cruel certainty the surest way to wound the other; and who stab, and tear, and claw at these vulnerable spots in exact proportion to their love. Ugly words. Bitter words. Words that neither knew they knew flew between them like sparks between steel striking steel. From him--"Trouble with you is you haven't got enough to do. That's the trouble with half you women. Just lay around the house, rotting. I'm a fool, slaving on the road to keep a good-for-nothing--" "I suppose you call sitting around hotel lobbies slaving! I suppose the house runs itself! How about my evenings? Sitting here alone, night after night, when you're on the road." Finally, "Well, if you don't like it," he snarled, and lifted his chair by the back and slammed it down, savagely, "if you don't like it, why don't you get out, h'm? Why don't you get out?" And from her, her eyes narrowed to two slits, her cheeks scarlet: "Why, thanks. I guess I will."