Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. Because every mistake you make, for every new mishap, Joe, I take a finger. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. ‘You should rather be arresting the girl and throwing her into gaol for attempted murder. We already had a place to mislay blame. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink. “Endless. ” He thought. "He stands before you," rejoined her son.
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