"Janet," I called to her, "I think that Martel's made a mistake. They sent us a bill for 175 dollars. I'm sure it should be 17 dollars 50 cents. Will you call about it tomorrow, so I can send the cheque?" Janet did not answer. "Janet," I called again, "did you hear? I said Martel's made a mistake." She lowered the magazine slowly, lying it across her chest. I could tell she was trying to be calm. "I did not want you to see that," she said slowly. "I thought I had hidden it from the other letters."
I flushed when I realized that Janet had spent the money. She had not even asked me about it! I went from the living room to sit on the edge of the bed, watching her closely. We might as well get it all out in the open, I felt. "Do you mean," I began, "that you spent 175 dollars without discussing it with me? And why not?" Janet tried to smile. "I am working, too. I'm going to pay for it."
"That's what I want to know, Janet. Pay for what? I haven't seen anything new around here." Janet lowered her eyes. "I—I don't want to tell you, Barney. It's—just something I wanted to buy." I kept looking at her. It was hard to believe what I had heard. Janet had spent the money, admitted it, and now didn't even want to tell me what it was for. I just could not understand that at all. There was no money in the checking account to pay this bill. It would have to be taken from our savings account. That meant another month's delay in buying the house. It was not fair. It violated our plans and agreement, and worst of all, I would never be able to trust her again. Why had she done this to me? I was becoming angrier, and I decided I was going to get to the bottoms of it all. "Look, Janet," I said sharply. "Let's not play games. I want to know what that bill is for? I have a right to know." Janet touched my arm. "Don't be angry with me, Barney? You've been working much too hard these last few months. You're so jumpy and nervous." She was trying to escape from the situation and I knew it. That made me angrier. I pulled away roughly, displeased. "Look," I repeated, "I asked you a question. Do you refuse to give me an answer?" Janet looked up at me, puzzled, as if she was struggling with a problem. When she finally answered, I did not like what she said. "You'll just have to accept the matter as it is," she said quickly. "Just because I married you does not mean I have no right to a few private affairs. Yes, I refuse to answer." With that, she looked me in the eyes again. That turned the devil loose in my brain. I stood up and started to walk back and forth, unable to control my boiling anger. All at once, I stopped dead still. I knew everything. She did not have to tell me. She had bought a damned mink fur scarf. Her friend Carol had just gotten one a month before, and I had seen that look in Janet's eyes, that look of green-eye envy. Just like a woman! What to put on her back came first.