"I got to see you," Toby whispered, obstinately. "See? I mean to say, I got to know what you're going to do."
Sally gave a contemptuous laugh. So he had followed her for that!
"Well, I'm well rid of you," she answered. "I see what you are."
"Oh, you do, do you...." said Toby. He gripped her arm. "Not so much of that, Sal. D'you see? I won't have it. You belong to me."
"I don't!" But Sally was only waiting for his fierce embrace, and longing for it. "I don't like you. I don't want you. I've had enough. You let me down."
Toby started. His voice became thick with anger.
"My Christ! Who let anybody down? What did you do to me? Eh? You married this chap. You did it for yourself. Let you down, do I? Oh, I'm a good mind to kill you, Sal."
Sally shivered. She knew he might do it. He could do it. It was his nature. But she answered him defiantly, sneeringly.
"Yes, if you want to be hung for it."
Toby was holding her so that her arms were being bruised. He pulled her towards him, and kissed her again and again. He was crushing her.