He pushed back his plate.

"Then I'll go in and sit with her while she sleeps."

She, who was so fastidiously dainty of manner, half rose, spilling her
soup.

"No," she said, "you mustn't! Not now!" And sat down again hurriedly,
wanting not to appear perturbed.

A curious thing happened then to Louis. His lower lip came pursing
out like a little shelf and a hitherto unsuspected look of pigginess
fattened over his rather plump face.

"You quit butting into me and my wife's affairs, you, or get the hell
out of here," he said, without raising his voice or his manner.

She placed her hand to the almost unbearable flutter of her heart.

"Louis! You mustn't talk like that to--me!"

"Don't make me say something I'll regret. You! Only take this tip, you!
There's one of two things you better do. Quit trying to come between me
and her or--get out."

"I--She's sick."

"Naw, she ain't. Not as sick as you make out. You're trying, God knows
why, to keep us apart. I've watched you. I know your sneaking kind.
Still water runs deep. You've never missed a chance since we're married