She rose to her feet then. When she spoke her tone was quite controlled.
"You got to let that chow-dog go."
The man sprang erect.
"What d'you mean?"
"You—got—to—let—China-Ching—go! You got to let him get away. You got to make that China-Ching—free."
He laughed. The laugh had no sound of mirth in it. The laugh was long and loud; but its loudness could not cover the insidious evil of it.
"That's a good one," he shouted. "Let a dog go of his own sweet will when some day I'll be getting my price for him. That's the funniest thing I've heard in many a long day. Land's sakes! You're just full of wit,—ain't you?"
"I ain't," she retorted sullenly.
But he paid no attention to her.
"I never would have thought it—that's a cinch! Say,—it do seem I'm learning all the time."