"William, I have decided."
For a few seconds he faced her, matching her glance. He was red with belligerence; Aunt Caroline had the composure of placid adamant. He knew that look. Again the dread picture began to fashion itself; there was weakness in his soul.
"But listen, Aunt Caroline; I'm such a roughneck——"
"William!"
He made a ponderous gesture of despair and walked out of the library.
[CHAPTER III]
Engaged
Out of the library and through the parlor—there was a parlor in the Marshall home—strode Bill, with each step gathering speed and assuming the momentum of an avalanche. Things that were in his way suffered consequences. Not that Bill was clumsy at all, although he thought he was, as most men do who belong in the oversize class. He was simply for the moment disregardful of property. Sometimes he believed in the innate perversity of inanimate matter and comported himself accordingly. He was in a hopeless anguish of mind. Oh, that Aunt Caroline should have pressed this cup to his lips.