"My wife told me enough," observed Tustin. "Living next door—and knowing 'em all; she gets things straight."
"My God!" cried Stewart, with a sadden passion. "My God!" He struck the table violently with his fist and rose from his chair, and the others looked at him, amazed by the outburst.
He had forgotten the loss of an ideal; he was remembering that with such a motive Floyd had prevailed on him to build the house for Farrell and then had suffered him to pay the excess.