Wolcott gets the right to monkey with my affairs. And
as for you--if you're going to cheat me out of what's mine--for the
love of heaven, do it, but don't make it worse with all this high and
mighty talk. It makes me tired."

"Please, Roger...." The tears in her eyes were plain now.

"Maybe I am all the pleasant things you say I am. Maybe I haven't got
sense enough to take care of my own money. But what are you? I never
noticed any wings on your shoulders."

"You don't understand. I...."

"Understand? Of course I don't understand. That's why I'm asking the
question. If I'm what you say I am--what are you? Where'd you get your
preaching card?"

"What difference does it make what I am?"

"It makes a lot of difference. If you're so hot on reforming me, why
don't you take a crack at yourself? I don't see that you're so almighty
angelic. What have _you_ ever done in the world? You can play the piano
after a fashion and sing, and talk a little French, and play cards and
smoke cigarettes and drink cocktails and ... well, what else can you do?
You spend twice as much money as I do, and I'll be hanged if I can see
that you spend it to much better advantage. If I'm a waster and no
account and a bad egg, you're one too. The only difference is that you
wear skirts and I don't. Well--why don't you answer me?"

He towered over her, white with his rising rage.

"I say, why don't you answer me?" he repeated hotly.

"You don't need to be rude," she answered, her voice trembling.

"I'm not rude. I'm simply putting the same question to you that you put
to me. You held the mirror up to me. You can't squeal if I do the same
by you. You wanted to know what I had ahead, what I thought about
things, where I stood, and all that. Well, what do _you_ think about
things? Where do you stand? What are you? Turn about's fair, isn't it?"

Judith sought shelter in dignity. She raised her head coldly. "I think
there is nothing more to be said. I think you had better go to bed."

"No," he sneered bitterly; "there isn't anything more. You're dealing
the cards. But it's a darned rotten deal, just the same. If you've got a
clear conscience you've got a devil of a lot more than I'd have if I was
in your shoes."

With which bit of self-depreciation Roger stalked dignifiedly, if a
trifle unsteadily, out of the room.

Judith remained as he left her, with her chin in her hand, staring into
the empty fireplace. Once or twice she brought her handk