He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. You can if you will. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. Only her babe died. gutenberg. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti.
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