"If you don't decide quickly, I'll scream," cried Mrs. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. "Choose, Jack. We’ll find a way to survive.
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