"If you was a gentleman you wouldn't throw what you've done for me in my
face."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, shut up. What d'you suppose I care if I'm a
gentleman or not? If I were a gentleman I shouldn't waste my time with a
vulgar slut like you. I don't care a damn if you like me or not. I'm sick
of being made a blasted fool of. You're jolly well coming to Paris with me
on Saturday or you can take the consequences."

Her cheeks were red with anger, and when she answered her voice had the
hard commonness which she concealed generally by a genteel enunciation.

"I never liked you, not from the beginning, but you forced yourself on me,
I always hated it when you kissed me. I wouldn't let you touch me now not
if I was starving."

Philip tried to swallow the food on his plate, but the muscles of his
throat refused to act. He gulped down something to drink and lit a
cigarette. He was trembling in every part. He did not speak. He waited for
her to move, but she sat in silence, staring at the white tablecloth. If
they had been alone he would have flung his arms round her and kissed her
passionately; he fancied the throwing back of her long white throat as he
pressed upon her mouth with his lips. They passed an hour without
speaking, and at last Philip thought the waiter began to stare at them
curiously. He called for the bill.

"Shall we go?" he said then, in an even tone.

She did not reply, but gathered together her bag and her gloves. She put
on her coat.

"When are you seeing Griffiths again?"

"Tomorrow," she answered indifferently.

"You'd better talk it over with him."

She opened her bag mechanically and saw a piece of paper in it. She took
it out.

"Here's the bill for this dress," she said hesitatingly.

"What of it?"

"I promised I'd give her the money tomorrow."

"Did you?"

"Does that mean you won't pay for it after having told me I could get it?"

"It does."

"I'll ask Harry," she said, flushing quickly.

"He'll be glad to help you. He owes me seven pounds at the moment, and he
pawned his microscope last week, because he was so broke."

"You needn't think you can frighten me by that. I'm quite capable of
earning my own living."

"It's the best thing you can do. I don't propose to give you a farthing
more."

She thought of her rent due on Saturday and the baby's keep, but did not
say anything. They left the restaurant, and in the street Philip asked
her:

"Shall I call a cab for you?