"Did you tell 'm you'd charge him for gas if he goes on readin' in bed?"
he demanded.

Mrs. Higginbotham made no reply. Her revolt faded away, her spirit
wilting down into her tired flesh. Her husband was triumphant. He had
her. His eyes snapped vindictively, while his ears joyed in the sniffles
she emitted. He extracted great happiness from squelching her, and she
squelched easily these days, though it had been different in the first
years of their married life, before the brood of children and his
incessant nagging had sapped her energy.

"Well, you tell 'm to-morrow, that's all," he said. "An' I just want to
tell you, before I forget it, that you'd better send for Marian to-morrow
to take care of the children. With Tom quit, I'll have to be out on the
wagon, an' you can make up your mind to it to be down below waitin' on
the counter."

"But to-morrow's wash day," she objected weakly.

"Get up early, then, an' do it first. I won't start out till ten
o'clock."

He crinkled the paper viciously and resumed his reading.




CHAPTER IV