We dine at seven-thirty. Suppose he stopped all her allowance, made it imperative that she should either stay ineffectually resentful at home or earn a living for herself at once. "We shall be obliged to force it. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. ” He replied. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. “I do wish you and your father could come to some agreement. I must provide for my safety. “I forbid it!” she said firmly.
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