I
would, now. You can live in his attic studio, you know. In such a
romantic place you would never be hungry, of course."
Mrs. Sandford interposed,--
"Don't, Henry! This is not the way."
Marcia's eyes flashed through her tears, as she answered,--
"You say _you_ are ruined,--that the house and furniture must go. How
much better off shall I be here?"
"Well, you have your choice."
"And when the time comes, I shall take it."
Sobs and tears followed, but her lips were firm and her hands clenched.
"As you please, sister."
"You come home ill-tempered, and the rage which you could not or dared
not give vent to in the street you pour out here."
"Perhaps you would have been pleased, if I had not come home at all?"
"I'm sure we should have been quite as happy without you."
"Very well. I may leave you, yet."
"I don't care how soon."
New sobs and a firmer pressure of the lips.
Oddly enough, at that moment, Mr. Sandford was summoned to the
drawing-room, where a man was waiting for him. Fearful of the result, he
went to his own room, first, and left the precious pocketbook, and then
descended to the hall.
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