"Don't talk rubbish. You've got my mother bawling her eyes out upstairs, and wishing she were dead. You've got to come off this high horse of yours. You've got to apologise to her, and damned quick, at that. Understand?"
"Nothing will give me greater joy than to offer her my most abject apology, Mr. Titus, unless it would be her unqualified forgiveness."
"You'll have to withdraw everything you said."
"I'll withdraw everything except my ultimatum in respect to her putting a foot outside these walls. That still stands."
"I beg to differ with you."
"You may beg till you're black in the face," said I coolly.
He swallowed hard. His face twitched, and his hands were clenched.
"You are pretty much of a mucker, Mr. Smart," he said, between his teeth. "I'm sorry my sister has fallen into your hands. The worst of it is, she seems satisfied with everything you do. Good Lord! What she can see in you is beyond my comprehension. Protection! Why you couldn't protect her from the assault of a chicken."
"Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Titus?"
"You couldn't resent it if I were. There never was an author with enough moral backbone to—"