"You do?" sneered he. "And then what? I've got to think of Ruthie." He snatched the bundle from her hand. "Come on! I must do all I can to keep the disgrace to my family down. As for you, you don't deserve anything but the gutter, where you'd sink if I left you. Your aunt's right. You're rotten. You were born rotten. You're your mother's own brat."
"Yes, I am," she cried. "And I'm proud of it!" She turned from him, was walking rapidly away.
"Come with me!" ordered Warham, following and seizing her by the arm.
"No," said Susan, wrenching herself free.
"Then I'll call a policeman and have you locked up."
Uncle and niece stood regarding each other, hatred and contempt in his gaze, hatred and fear in hers.
"You're a child in law—though, God knows, you're anything but a child in fact. Come along with me. You've got to. I'm going to see that you're put out of harm's way."
"You wouldn't take me back to Sutherland!" she cried.
He laughed savagely. "I guess not! You'll not show your face there again—though I've no doubt you'd be brazen enough to brass it out. No—you can't pollute my home again."
"I can't go back to Sutherland!"