k tones.

"It's all he's good for. He never earns a penny. He goes and tacks on to
any fellow he sees looking a bit flushed with money and boozes with him
all day. He often meets a fellow that knew us when we had the hotel, and
he gets a beer or two out of him."

"Oh, I am sorry, Mrs. King," began Marcella, but Mrs. King laughed a
little harshly.

"I don't mind so much now, kid--got past it. So long as my back don't
trouble me too much. The boys are very good to me--they put him to bed
if he's dead drunk. If he isn't dead drunk I won't sleep with him,
because he's always forward and vulgar when he's only half there. Then
he haves to sleep on the sofa in the dining-room. Next day he gets up
and cleans the grates and scrubs for me. If he didn't he wouldn't get
any money out of me--and well he knows it."

"But do you give him money for drink?"

"Yes. But not till he's done his scrubbing. You see, being in the hotel
business all his life, he can't get started of a morning till he's had a
dog's hair. So he'll scrub all three storeys down for thruppence. When
he's had one drink, and is safe inside a hotel, he's got sauce enough to
raise drinks out of anyone. But you know, whenever there's a new chum
about that he can get thruppence out of, it's poor Ma for the scrubbing.
And my back's just as bad as bad can be!"

The fire was not very bright. Marcella wished Louis's chops would cook
more quickly. She wanted to get upstairs.

"It's dreadful being married to a man like that," said Marcella.

"It is," said Mrs. King, planting her iron viciously on Mr. King's shirt
that she was ironing. "I used to try to stop him once. Only you get
disheartened in time, don't you, kid? The times I've started a new home
and had it sold up under me! Six homes I've had and this is the seventh.
And the times I've trusted him, only to get laughed at for being a soft.
Now all I do is to feel damn glad to get him off my hands for the day.
We've made that a hard and fast rule. I'll do for him, and give him a
meal of a Sunday when the hotels are closed and see to his washing, and
let him sleep in my bed when he's drunk enough not to get vulgar. In
return he does the scrubbing and the grates, and I find him in
liveners--"

"Oh, my goodness--do you love him?" asked Marcella, staring at her.

It was Mrs. King's turn to stare.

Then she laughed loudly, a little hysterically, until tears came into
her eyes as she stood with her iron poised.

"Lo