He stepped aside to avoid the blow.
"If you touch me ... I'll kill you...." Her words were gasps.
He held her arms again, pushing them behind her until her face was close before his. "You black devil! I've a mind to——"
Then he pulled her closer, fastening his dry lips against her protesting mouth. For a hushed second she took the unexpected caress quiescently; then fought, kicked, scratched, to get away. He held her firmly, shaking her until she ceased. Then he let her go.
She ran a few frightened steps, then turned in the dusky safety, facing him. Her mind held only an outraged hate; her feelings quivered and rioted in disquieting turmoil.
He smacked his lips broadly.
"You—you white trash——"
He faced her coldly. "When I want you,"—whistling, as though calling a dog, he turned up toward the crest—"you'll come...."
Her heart panting in wrenching excitement, she listened to his retreating steps. She stared, helplessly rooted in the accusing silence. Her knees trembled; she waited to regain strength.
Then she moved heavily toward the house, entering by the rickety kitchen steps in the rear.