"A man, Joe."
He snorted sullenly.
"Better'n a no-man any road," he sneered.
The words stung her. All the immense and tender motherliness of her nature rose up like a wave that curls in roaring majesty to a fall. She swept the tin-tacks from her mouth and met him, flashing and glorious.
"See here, Joe!" she cried, deep-voiced as a bloodhound. "Ne'er a word against my Ern! I won't have it."
"Your Ern!"
She was white and heaving.
"Yes, my Ern! He's down and out, and you take advantage to come up here behind his back and insult him—and me. You're the one to call anudder man a no-man, aren't you?" Taking the bag of money she tossed it at him with a flinging scorn that was magnificent.
"Take your filth away—and yourself with it!"
He went, humbled and ashamed.