'Ye hev tole me ye love me, an' I expec' ye ter live up ter it. Ye hev promised ter marry me, an' I claim ye fur my wife. Say that man's name another time, an' I'll kill him, ef ever he gits in rifle range agin. I'll kill him! I'll kill him!' his right hand was once more mechanically toying with the pistol, while he held her arm with the other, 'an' I'll kill ye, too!'
He had gone too far; he had touched the dominant impulse of her nature. Her cheeks were flaring. Her courage blazed in her eyes.
'An' I tell ye, Rick Tyler, that I am not afeard o' ye! An' if ye let a man suffer fur a word ez ye can say in safety, an' an act ez ye kin do in ease, ye ain't the Rick Tyler I knowed—ye air suthin' else. I 'lowed ye war good, but mebbe I hev been cheated in ye, an' ef I hev, I'll gin ye up. I ain't a-goin' ter marry no man ez I can't look up ter, an' say "he air good!" An' ef ye'll meet me a hour 'fore sundown, at the Squair's house, ter-morrow evenin', I'll b'lieve in ye, an' I'll marry ye. An' ef ye don't, I won't.'
She caught up his hat and gave it to him. Then she opened the door. The white mists stood shivering in the little porch.
He turned and looked in angry dismay at her resolute face. But he did not say a word, though he knew her heart yearned for it beneath her inflexible mask.
He walked slowly out, and the door closed upon him, and upon the shivering white mists. He paused for a moment, hesitating.
He heard nothing within—not even her retreating step. He knew as well as if he had seen her that she was leaning against the door, silently sobbing her heart out.
'D'rindy needs a lesson,' he said sternly. And so he went out into the night.