“Indeed.”
“We want the child. You don’t want her, and you can’t pretend to me that you do. Even if you did want her you can’t take care of her in no way that’s decent.”
“There’s a great deal in what you say, Hitty.”
“What you’re going to do is to sign a paper giving up your claim to her, and then Nancy can adopt her when she sees fitting to do so.”
“What would you suggest my doing about the child’s mother? She has a mother living, you know.”
“Well, I didn’t know,” Hitty said, “but now I do know I guess I ain’t going to have so much trouble as I thought I was. You’re just a plain low-down yellow cur that any likely man I know would come down here and lick the lights out of.”
“Well, don’t send any more of them, Hitty,” Collier Pratt protested. “My work won’t stand it.”
“You ’tend to the child’s mother then, and I’ll ’tend to you. You’d better let Sheila come away peaceable without any more trouble.”
“What do you propose doing to me if I don’t?”