n thinking
about me all this time I've been working like a--"

Lydia drew the first conscious breath since the beginning of this
nightmare. The earth was still under her feet, struck down to it though
she was. The roaring in her ears stopped. She heard Paul say:

"Maybe you think I'm made of iron! I tell you I'm right on my nerves
every minute! Dr. Melton threatens me with a breakdown every time I see
him!" There was a sort of angry pride in this statement. "I can't sleep!
I'm doing ten men's work! And what do I get from you? Any rest? Any
quiet? Why, these first years, when you might have made things easier
for me by taking all other cares off my mind and leaving me free for
business--they've actually been harder because of you!"

He thrust his arms into his overcoat and caught up his satchel. "I
haven't wanted anything so hard to give! Good Lord! All I asked for was
a well-kept house where I could invite my friends without being ashamed
of it, and to live like other decent people!" He moved to the door, and
put one hand, one strong, thin hand, on the knob. With the unearthly
clearness of one in a terrible accident, Lydia noticed every detail of
his appearance. He was flushed, a purple, congested color, singularly
unlike his usual indoor pallor; hurried pulses throbbed visibly, almost
audibly, at his temples; one eyelid twitched rapidly and steadily, like
a clock ticking. With a gesture as automatic as drawing breath, he
jerked out his watch and looked at it, apparently to make sure of
catching his trolley, although his valedictory was poured out with such
a passionate unpremeditation that the action must have been involuntary
and unconscious. "But I don't even ask that now--since it doesn't suit
you to bother to give it! All I ask now ought to be easy enough for any
woman to do--not to _bother_ me! Leave me alone! Keep your everlasting
stewing and fussing and hysterical putting-on to yourself! I don't
bother you with my affairs--I haven't, and I never will--why, for God's
sake, can't you-- Some men marry women who help them, and pull with them
loyally, instead of pulling the other way all the time! Such a woman
would have made me a thousand times more successful than I--"

Lydia broke in with a loud voice of anguished questioning: "Do they make
them better men?" she asked piercingly.

Her husband looked at her over his shoulder. "Oh, you and your
goody-goody cant!" he said, and going out without further speech, cl