"That's a sensible girl, Jenny. Even your father had to laugh at you when you told him the way you feel. It isn't natural. It's just nerves, I guess. You could stick it out with Daniel Drare. You can stick it out with me. Look here, Daniel Drare's a great old fellow, but I'm not as crude in some things as he is; am I, Jenny?"
"You would be if you could." Her voice was singsong. "You haven't his strength; that's all."
"I'm not as crude as he is."
"You haven't his strength," she droned.
"I've enough strength to keep you here; if that's what you mean."
"No, it's not what I mean." A puzzled look crept across her face. Her eyes were suddenly furtive. "Maybe I don't know what I mean. But I don't think it's you. I don't think you count. It's him. It's Daniel Drare! He's behind it all. I don't think I quite know what I'll do about it. I must do something! I mustn't be angry!"
He stared at her.
"You'd best come along if you're going to dress."
"I'll be up in a moment," she said.
When he was gone she went over to the window.