Explore "A Marrying Man" by G.B. Stern on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gareth did not start his book that night. Kathleen was still up on his return to Pacific Villa; and, lamely, he had to explain the taxi. In their financial condition -- his yearly salary amounted to two hundred and seventy pounds -- taxicabs were extravagances to be contemplated only when matters of extreme importance were at stake. Gareth did not happen to be a liar by nature, to assert that he had felt ill; nor was he a diplomat, to have resorted to the expedient of stopping the car at the corner of the road. He said simply "I just thought I would like a drive, Kath," and waited for the storm.
She made cold reply: "It's your money, of course. I've written to Ilfracombe. Shall we go to bed now? It's late."