"I don't see where your wrath comes in. I've got the right of
this thing. You oughtn't to have done anything that wasn't right
after all I did for you."

"What have you done for me?" asked Carrie blazing, her head
thrown back and her lips parted.

"I think I've done a good deal," said the drummer, looking
around. "I've given you all the clothes you wanted, haven't I?
I've taken you everywhere you wanted to go. You've had as much
as I've had, and more too."

Carrie was not ungrateful, whatever else might be said of her.
In so far as her mind could construe, she acknowledged benefits
received. She hardly knew how to answer this, and yet her wrath
was not placated. She felt that the drummer had injured her
irreparably.

"Did I ask you to?" she returned.

"Well, I did it," said Drouet, "and you took it."

"You talk as though I had persuaded you," answered Carrie. "You
stand there and throw up what you've done. I don't want your old
things. I'll not have them. You take them to-night and do what
you please with them. I'll not stay here another minute."

"That's nice!" he answered, becoming angered now at the sense of
his own approaching loss. "Use everything and abuse me and then