and facing her Ma; "first of
all, it's your fault ... yours ... all that's happened, damn it! If you
had been less hard on me, I shouldn't have gone off with that footy
rotter!"

"I've often been sorry since," said Ma. "I've been sorry for it. Calm
yourself, Lily. And then ... were we so very wrong? Look how your husband
has just treated you before me, before your mother!"

"He's a liar! I swear it!"

"And Jimmy's thousand marks? What was that money for? Why didn't you give
it back?"

"It's a lie! It's a lie!"

"You, who pretended you were making such a lot of money!" continued Ma.
"There's not a word of truth in what you said. You haven't a penny. I can
see it. Oh, you're the same as ever, my poor Lily--extravagant habits,
dresses--and here you are, penniless, left to yourself with your expensive
tastes. You'll die in poverty one day, without a Pa or Ma. Come back to
us, Lily."

"To make nothing? No, thank you!"

"Who says so?"

"Oh, I know! Ten shillings a week, eh? Family life, as that old beast of a
Fuchs says!"

"Lily," said Ma severely, "don't insult decent people! Have some respect,
at any rate."

But Lily had no respect left for anybody. Pas, Mas, Trampies, Nunkies, one
and all, were so many slave-drivers!

"And yet it's quite true, I'm penniless," thought Lily to herself. "I, who
have earned a fortune for you!" she grumbled under her breath, stifling a
sob.

"You're mad, my poor Lily! All that we have will be yours some day. You
never think of the future; you spend your last penny."

"I earn and I spend!"

"And suppose you fell ill, my poor Lily?"

"Hospitals aren't made for dogs! Besides, I have friends. And then, at
least, I shall have had some fun for my money, while you, if you died
to-morrow, Pa would marry another woman, who would spend all your savings,
all the money I have earned for you."

"Lily," cried Mrs. Clifton, "you're insulting your father!"

"I'm telling you things as they are; and I won't come back to you, because
I can make more elsewhere! Every one for himself!"

"But you don't make a penny!" said Ma, gradually getting angry. "You heard
Trampy, just now. He called you an idler. Your Pa, at least, used to make
you work. You're trying to bluff us with those stories of your successes.
I dare say you'll be glad, one day, of a crust of bread with us."

"Ma!"

"Your contracts," said Ma, "you're always talking of your contracts. I
should like to see them and your program