I didn't say anything. You don't say things in answer to things
like that. You feel 'em.

Ashamed? What do I care for a man with a voice like that! . . .
But you should have heard how Tom's growl sounded after it.

"Why the hell didn't you light out?"

"I couldn't, Tom. I just--couldn't," I sobbed.

"There seems invariably to be a misunderstanding of signals
where Miss Omar is concerned. Also a disposition to use strong
language in the lady's presence. Don't you, young man!"

"Don't you call me Miss Omar!" I blazed, stamping my foot.

He laughed a contemptuous laugh.

I could have killed him then, I hated him so. At least, I thought
I could; but just then Tom sent a spark out of the corner of his
eye to me that meant--it meant--

You know, Mag, what it would have meant to Latimer if I had done
what Tom's eye said.

I thought at first I had done it--it passed through my mind so
quick; the sweet words I'd say--the move I'd make--the quick
knocking-up of the pistol, and then--

It was that--that sight of Tom, big Tom Dorgan, with rage in his