Bill was smart enough to do as he was told. He went into the kitchen and sat down. Better to let Lottie rage. She'd calm down in the end.

But she said the wrong thing right away. It was a knife in the back, a breech of an agreed upon taboo. And not only did she recall it, she identified him with it. The children might hear too, if she kept going like that. Instantly, that rage that always lurked somewhere inside of him, flared up and he opened his mouth.

But Lottie snapped that she wasn't done yet. It stopped him. But not for long. Her anger only fed his own. He rose while she was speaking. His face turned increasingly red, almost purple. His hands turned to fists by his side. Only the fear that he would give in to the urge to attack her restrained him somewhat. "TAKE A FECKIN' BREAK, LOTTIE!" He roared back at her, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Apparently waking Osway street alone wasn't enough. "I did what I did! Any father would 'ave! Now let it go for feck's sake! And don't you ever," he poked a strong finger into her shoulder, "bring that up again! I swear to God, woman..."