"And you looking like that!" said Carrie, throwing aside a long reserve.
"What of it?" he said, angering. "I didn't know she was coming, did I?"
"You knew she might," said Carrie. "I told you she said she was coming. I've asked you a dozen times to wear your other clothes. Oh, I think this is just terrible."
"Oh, let up," he answered. "What difference does it make? You couldn't associate with her, anyway. They've got too much money."
"Who said I wanted to?" said Carrie, fiercely.
"Well, you act like it, rowing around over my looks. You'd think I'd committed———"
Carrie interrupted:
"It's true," she said. "I couldn't if I wanted to, but whose fault is it? You're very free to sit and talk about who I could associate with. Why don't you get out and look for work?"
This was a thunderbolt in camp.
"What's it to you?" he said, rising, almost fiercely. "I pay the rent, don't I? I furnish the———"
"Yes, you pay the rent," said Carrie. "You talk as if there was nothing else in the world but a flat to sit around in. You haven't done a thing for three months except sit around and interfere here. I'd like to know what you married me for?"
"I didn't marry you," he said, in a snarling tone.
"I'd like to know what you did, then, in Montreal?" she answered.
"Well, I didn't marry you," he answered. "You can get that out of your head. You talk as though you didn't know."
Carrie looked at him a moment, her eyes distending. She had believed it was all legal and binding enough.
