Aubrey Beardsley paintings

She said no more, but, as he began undressing himself, Mrs. Bunting lay staring at him in a way that made her husband feel even more uncomfortable than he was already.
At last he got into bed. He wanted to break the oppressive silence by telling Ellen about the sovereign the young lady had given him, but that sovereign now seemed to Bunting of no more account than if it had been a farthing he had picked up in the road outside.
Once more his wife spoke, and he gave so great a start that it shook the bed.
"I suppose that you don't know that you've left the light burning in the hall, wasting our good money?" she observed tartly.
He got up painfully and opened the door into the passage. It was as she had said; the gas was flaring away, wasting their good money - or, rather, Mr. Sleuth's good money. Since he had come to be their lodger they had not had to touch their rent money.
Bunting turned out the light and groped his way back to the room, and so to bed. Without speaking again to each other, both husband and wife lay awake till dawn