insulting me?"

It was precisely because he had observed the episode that Mr. Chater
had kept well behind the curtain; but he did not adduce the fact.

"I certainly did not," he affirmed.

"Ah! I expect you took precious good care not to. You've done the same
thing before. Never to my dying day shall I forget the figure you cut
outside Swan and Edgar's last Christmas. Making me--"

Mr. Chater implored: "Oh, my dear, don't drag that up again!"

"But I _do_ drag it up!" Mrs. Chater a little unnecessarily cried. "I
_do_ drag it up, and I shall always drag it up--making me a fool as
you did! I was ashamed of you. I was--"

Mr. Chater nervously wiped his moist palms with his pocket
handkerchief: "I've told you over and over again, my dear, that I
never understood the circumstances. There was a great crowd, and I was
very much pushed about. If I had known the circumstances--"

Mrs. Chater hurled back the word at him: "Circumstances!"

"My dear," the agitated man replied, ticking off the points on soft
fingers, "my dear, I had gone to the window of Swan and Edgar's,
leaving you, as you expressly desired, to pay the man _yourself_. When
I came _back_ to you, what I gathered was that the man was entitled to
a further _sixpence_ and that you had no _change_."