CHAPTER VI
I
“Y ou know, Val, I do think we ought to go just once to the Bentons’ for a Sunday. It does seem so dashed uncivil not to.”
This came out unexpectedly as Valerie and Bob sat in the office about half-past eight. She waited a few seconds before replying. Her eyes had hardened.
“Good heavens, Bob, do I have to decide for you whether you go or not? I’ve decided for myself and told you my decision. If you can’t make up your mind what you want to do, I do not see why you should bother me with it.”
Bob took a long puff at his pipe. It annoyed him that Valerie was the one person he could do nothing with. And it annoyed him that some devil in him continually prompted him to try to change her. The fact that irritation and friction resulted did not deter him from beginning it all over again.
“Well, I can’t see why you don’t want to go,” he snapped.
“Then you’ll have to go on living without seeing, Bob. Do you know you are getting more like the relatives every day? Yes you are,” she repeated, as he squirmed in his chair. “You promised if I came up here that you would treat me as if I were a man and an independent stranger. And you have done nothing of the kind. I feel your criticism every day. You were mad when I ordered ale for my lunch. You were mad when I walked past the barroom
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