"So I took the heart out of you,—did I?"
She glared at him savagely.
"You knows you did!"
For a moment they were silent.
"Well?" He asked.
She saw him wave a hand toward the door.
"Aw, James, you can't be so cruel bad—You can't. The other dogs don't mind it—; they makes a noise and they tears around. And then they eats and drinks and late at nights they lies down and sleeps;—if there ain't no moon. But that China-Ching he ain't like them. Maybe—he is savage;—maybe you're right to be afraid of him."
His whole figure was suddenly taut. His head shrank into his shoulders.
"There ain't nothing I'm afraid of;—get that into your head—I ain't afraid of nothing—And if you wants to go,—why, all I got to say is, you can—git!"
A stillness came between them, broken only by the sounds from the kennels. The yelping, the shrill prolonged whines, the quick, incessant barking; and running in growling under-current, the throaty, infuriated snarling.