"Here, to-night?" she said, her comprehension stimulated by an
automatic repetition of his words.
"Yes. I may not be able to understand tomorrow."
She moved her head, her glance touching the watch, the lantern, then
dropping to the hand curled round her own. It seemed symbolic of the
will against which hers was rising in combat. She made an involuntary
effort to withdraw her fingers but his closed tighter on them.
"Why?" she whispered again.
"Some one must take care of you. I can't leave you alone."
She answered with stiffened lips: "There's Daddy John."
"Some one closer than Daddy John. I want to leave you with David."
Her antagonism rose higher, sweeping over her wretchedness. Worn and
strained she had difficulty to keep her lips shut on it, to prevent
herself from crying out her outraged protests. All her dormant
womanhood, stirring to wakefulness in the last few weeks, broke into
life, gathering itself in a passion of revolt, abhorrent of the
indignity, ready to flare into vehement refusal. To the dim eyes
fastened on her she was merely the girl, reluctant still.
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