The Beth Book
"Oh, damn it!" he exclaimed, banging it down on the sideboard. "And I suppose there is none in the house. There never is any in the house. No one looks after anything. My comfort is never considered. It is always those damned children."
"Henry!" his wife protested; but she was too ill to defend herself further.
"What a life for a man," he proceeded; "stuck down in this cursed hole, without a congenial soul to speak to, in or out of the house."
"That is a cruel thing to say, Henry," she remonstrated with dignity.
"Well, I apologise," he rejoined ungraciously. "But you must confess that I have some cause to complain."
He was standing behind her as he spoke, and she felt that he eyed her the while with disapproval of her appearance, and anger at her condition. She knew the look only too well, poor soul, and her attitude was deprecating as she sat there gazing up pitifully at the strip of level greyness