He could not speak, or
even think, for that maddening laughter was growing behind him; then
he saw the hand of Marianne, as she turned a page, tremble slightly.
At that his voice came to him.
"Lady, I can't talk to Hervey."
She answered without looking up, and he hated her for it.
"Are you ashamed to face him?"
"I'm afraid to face him."
That, indeed, brought her head up and let him see all of her rage
translated into cruel scorn.
"Really afraid? I don't suppose I should be surprised."
He accepted that badgering as martyrs accept the anguish of fire.
"I'm afraid that if I turn around and see him, Miss Jordan, I ain't
going to stop at words."
The foreman acted before she could speak. The laughter across the
patio had stopped at Perris' speech; plainly Hervey must not remain
quiescent. He dropped his big hand on the shoulder of Perris.
"Look here, bucco," he growled, "You're tolerable much of a kid to use
man-sized talk. Turn around."
He even drew Perris slightly towards him, but the latter persisted
facing the girl even though his words were for the foreman. She was
growing truly frightened.
"Tell Hervey to take his hand off me," said the horse-breaker.
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