Then Mrs. Babbitt tore the decent cloak from her unhappiness and the astounded male discovered that she was having a small determined rebellion of her own.
III
They were beside the fireless fire-place, in the evening.
"Georgie," she said, "you haven't given me the list of your household expenses while I was away."
"No, I— Haven't made it out yet." Very affably: "Gosh, we must try to keep down expenses this year."
"That's so. I don't know where all the money goes to. I try to economize, but it just seems to evaporate."
"I suppose I oughtn't to spend so much on cigars. Don't know but what I'll cut down my smoking, maybe cut it out entirely. I was thinking of a good way to do it, the other day: start on these cubeb cigarettes, and they'd kind of disgust me with smoking."
"Oh, I do wish you would! It isn't that I care, but honestly, George, it is so bad for you to smoke so much. Don't you think you could reduce the amount? And George— I notice now, when you come home from these lodges and all, that sometimes you smell of whisky. Dearie, you know I don't worry so much about the moral side of it, but you have a weak stomach and you can't stand all this drinking."
"Weak stomach, hell! I guess I can carry my booze about as well as most folks!"
"Well, I do think you ought to be careful. Don't you see, dear, I don't want you to get sick."
"Sick, rats! I'm not a baby! I guess I ain't going to get sick just because maybe once a week I shoot a highball! That's the trouble with women. They always exaggerate so."
"George, I don't think you ought to talk that way when I'm just speaking for your own good."
