The contest, however, though desperate, was brief. “Because I hate you!” She spat. Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye. ’ ‘How do I know that?’ demanded Jack. The noise was raucous. I was his wife. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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