But he wouldn't have
dared speak to me that way if he hadn't..."
"Hadn't what? What do you mean?"
"Hadn't wanted me to be like those other girls...." She lowered her
voice and looked away from him. "So's 't he wouldn't have to go out...."
Harney stared at her. For a moment he did not seem to seize her meaning;
then his face grew dark. "The damned hound! The villainous low
hound!" His wrath blazed up, crimsoning him to the temples. "I never
dreamed--good God, it's too vile," he broke off, as if his thoughts
recoiled from the discovery.
"I won't never go back there," she repeated doggedly.
"No----" he assented.
There was a long interval of silence, during which she imagined that he
was searching her face for more light on what she had revealed to him;
and a flush of shame swept over her.
"I know the way you must feel about me," she broke out, "...telling you
such things...."
But once more, as she spoke, she became aware that he was no longer
listening. He came close and caught her to him as if he were snatching
her from some imminent peril: his impetuous eyes were in hers, and she
could feel the hard beat of his heart as he held her against it.
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