ETHAN FROME
"You know I haven't got the money to pay for a girl, Zeena. You'll have to send her back: I can't do it."
"The doctor says it'll be my death if I go on slaving the way I've had to. He doesn't understand how I've stood it as long as I have."
"Slaving!—" He checked himself again, "You sha'n't lift a hand, if he says so. I'll do everything round the house myself"
She broke in: "You're neglecting the farm enough already," and this being true, he found no answer, and left her time to add ironically: "Better send me over to the almshouse and done with it. . . I guess there's been Fromes there afore now."
The taunt burned into him, but he let it pass. "I haven't got the money. That settles it."
There was a moment's pause in the struggle, as though the combatants were testing their weapons. Then Zeena said in a level voice: "I thought you were to get fifty dollars from Andrew Hale for that lumber."
"Andrew Hale never pays under three months."
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