time, Judith; of your style, your housekeeping. You are his pet boast.
He says you can do more with less than anybody he ever saw." And then
Judith laughed.

They were all articles of the creed she herself repeated--and doubted
more and more. Faithful enough. He never came or went without the
customary kiss. When he had typhoid fever, no one might be near him
but her, until her exhaustion could no longer be concealed, when he
fretted about her--until he fretted himself back into high temperature
and had a relapse.

So, run down as she was, she hid it, kept up, went on alone, adding to
the score of her inevitable day of reckoning, after the old
heroic-criminal woman-way.

She had begun with ideas of their saving together for a purpose; but,
not allowed to plan, she must use every opportunity to provide against
future stricture; besides, Sam's arbitrary and unregulated spending
made her poor little economies both futile and unfair.

"I know nothing about your business. How can I tell if I spend too
much?"

"Make your mind easy; I'll keep you posted," he laughed. _He_ was
not bothering about dangerous ground.

"Doubtless,"--dryly. "But if I spend too little?"

"Not you."