"The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. CHAPTER XVI. “Now I’ll have what I want from you, wife. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. Wood; "here's a pretty to-do about nothing. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. “What if you get pregnant?” His worry came to a quick fruition. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition.
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