The Noise of the World by Adriana Spadoni

Through the next three months Anne thought more about money than she had ever thought in her life before. During the Wainwright days she had often been able to save ten dollars a week, but now that this sum was abstracted before it reached her, the remainder refused to include all that it had included then. Their small bank balance Anne refused to count an asset. She never mentioned it and was not sure that Roger remembered they had it. When he suggested some extravagance, a week-end trip, or absurdly expensive theater seats, treats that in the past had been supposed to be made possible by this balance -- but which, in the end, Anne had always managed without touching -- she now escaped on the plea of fatigue. Nevertheless, when Roger stopped suggesting them, Anne was hurt and angry.

Each week she put aside something for little Roger's need. And if gradually his clothes began to be finer, his bassinet more elaborate, his weighing scales unnecessarily expensive, she did not allow herself to word the reason. Only when Roger donated with extra liberality to some strike benefit or defense fund did Anne deliberately go out and buy something little Roger could very well have done without.