He rose slowly. "Well, dear, we won't go over it. We've seen things with the gilt off; and that's that. Anyhow, there's nothing to worry about, is there? We're about straight with the world, though it means every penny earmarked before I earn it. And there's no question of buying a pram now, thank God!" He turned away and searched on the mantelpiece for matches. "It made me shudder," he said very gravely, "three-pound-ten! Four pounds! After all the expenses I'd had." "Well...." she said, swallowing hard, "well, come and see Mr. Rokeby's present. It's a ten-guinea carriage, Osborn; nothing less." He swung round and looked at her, palsied in amazement. "Ten guineas! _Ten!_ Good God! Why ... it takes me the best part of three weeks to earn what that baby of yours just rides about in!" "Aren't you coming down to see it?" "I--I shall see it as I go out, thanks." "When you--go out!" She looked down quickly and noted that he had not taken off his boots. She said in a changed voice: "You're going out?" "I promised a man to look in and see the show at The Happy with him to-night. Just in the prom, you know. We haven't got stalls like giddy bachelors!" "Osborn, can't you stay in? It--it's lonely all day, and I look forward to your coming home." "You didn't seem to look forward very kindly last night." She cried with hot resentment: "I thought you didn't want that mentioned again!" "Oh, very well! And I shall be in to-morrow night; won't that do? A man can't be always tied up to the kitchen table, you know. Besides, I promised Dicky Vendo I'd go; his wife's away, and he's free." "Yours isn't away." "But she's been a damned little shrew, and doesn't deserve me to stay in for her. There! that's what you get by arguing." He laughed a laugh of vexation as much at his own ill-temper as at her pertinacity. "Very well," she said, drawing back. The light in the room was subdued, for the candles had not yet given place to the incandescent glare. He cast a glance at her face, but she had withdrawn to the shadow. "Well," he hesitated, "night-night, in case you don't sit up." "Good night," she replied. "I shan't sit up." "You might make up the fire before you go to bed, though, there's a dear girl." She did not answer, and he went out; she followed him to the doorway, and stood there watching him put on his overcoat and muffler again. His pipe was between his teeth; he removed it for a second to kiss her cheek hastily, then restored it. With a hysterical anger held feverishly in check, she thought that male imperturbability, male selfishness, were incredible. "Night-night!" he said again, going out. "I'll bring you a programme." The door shut. She was alone. She advanced passionately upon the strewn dinner-table; it waited there to be cleared by the work of her hands, as imperturbable as he. She dashed off the candle-shades first. "What a day!" she gasped.