"I never gave no word 'bout not threshing the lick."

"Most certainly you did, for you--you would have to tell
him before--and if you do that, I'll--"

"But, Miss Janice, you must n't disgrace--Damn him!
Then Bagby wasn't lyin' when he told me how there 'd been
talk at the tavern of his bundlin' with you."

For a moment Janice stood speechless, everything about her
suggesting the shame she was enduring. "He--he never
said that!" she panted more than spoke, as if she had ceased
to breathe.

"I told Bagby if he said that he was lyin'; but after--"

"Mr. Hennion, do you intend to insult me as well?"

"No, no, Miss Janice. I don't believe it. 'T was a lie for
certain, and I'm ashamed ter have spoke of it."

With unshed tears of mortification in her eyes Janice turned
to go, every other ill forgotten in this last grief.

"Miss Janice," called Phil, "you can't go without--"

The girl faced about. "You men are all alike," she cried,
interrupting. "You tease and worry and torture a girl you
pretend to care for, till 't is past endurance. I hate you, and
before I'll--"