"So this is where you meet," he said.
His tone was quiet and controlled, and the fact disconcerted her.
She had been ready to give him violence for violence, but this calm
acceptance of things as they were left her without a weapon.
"See here, Charity--you're always telling me I've got no rights over
you. There might be two ways of looking at that--but I ain't going
to argue it. All I know is I raised you as good as I could, and meant
fairly by you always except once, for a bad half-hour. There's no
justice in weighing that half-hour against the rest, and you know it. If
you hadn't, you wouldn't have gone on living under my roof. Seems to me
the fact of your doing that gives me some sort of a right; the right
to try and keep you out of trouble. I'm not asking you to consider any
other."
She listened in silence, and then gave a slight laugh. "Better wait till
I'm in trouble," she said. He paused a moment, as if weighing her words.
"Is that all your answer?"
"Yes, that's all."
"Well--I'll wait.
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