proval nor disapproval—"I wouldn't take the trouble to explain."
"The only thing I want to hear explained is how you got the money to pay for it," challenged Pete, pounding out his words accusingly. "At that, I don't think you'd be any too particular."
Minnie rose. She steadied herself, trying to hold her anger in check, but to no avail. The sight of Pete's leering face drove all reason from her, and she cried out in a fierce spasm of angry protest:
"You'll remember that dirty crack, Pete Flynn, you'll remember it. I'm goin' to be rich, d'you get me? Rich! I'm goin' to give Jimmy Flynn everything on earth that his heart's been set on. I'm goin' to give ma a nigger servant. Two of 'em! I'm goin' to give Nettie clothes that'll knock your eye out. I'm goin' to set my father up in the plumbin' business. D'you get me?"
Her voice was rising to a hysterical crescendo. Jabbing her finger at Elsie, she screamed with triumphant malice, "I'm goin' to give her a real fox fur whether you like it or not. D'you get me?"
Then whirling him around and seizing him by both lapels she shook him until her strength ebbed away.
"But you, damn you! You can come crawling on your knees to me, starvin'—and I won't give you a crust of bread. That's all I got to say to you, Pete Flynn. Now get up and clear out of here!"
Mrs. Flynn crumpled into a chair with a tortured moan, wringing her hands helplessly.
"Pete," she cried, when Minnie had flung herself sobbing on the sofa. "It's your fault this time. You had no business talkin' to your sister that way—I—I'm ashamed of you."
An awed silence fell upon them . . . why was Pete so
