Lapelle glanced past her at the man beyond and lowered his voice. Kenneth could not hear what he said. "Well, I'm going to see her, and she will be down on her knees before I'm through with her, let me tell you. Oh, I'm sober, Viola! I had my lesson yesterday. I'm through with whiskey forever. So she was away all night, eh? Out to the farm, eh? That nigger girl of yours says she must have gone out to the farm last night, because her bed wasn't slept in. And you weren't expecting visitors as early as this or you would have got home a little sooner yourself, huh?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Soon as she is out of the house you scoot over to big brother Kenny's, eh? Afraid to sleep alone, I suppose. Well, all I've got to say is you ought to have taken a little more time to dress."
"Oh! Oh,—you—you low-lived dog!" she gasped, going white to the roots of her hair. "How dare you say—"
"That's right! Call me all the pretty names you can think of. And say, I didn't come up here to beg anything from you or your mother. I'm not in a begging humour. I'm through licking your boots, Viola. What time will the old woman be back?"
"Stand away from that gate!" she said in a voice low and hoarse with fury. "Don't you dare speak to me again. And if you follow me to the house I'll—I'll—"
"What'll you do?" he jeered. "Call brother Kenny? Well, go ahead and call him. There he is. I'll kick him from here to the pond,—and that won't be half so pleasant as rocking little sister to sleep in her cradle while mamma is out for the night."
"And I used to think I was in love with you!" she cried in sheer disgust. "I could spit in your face, Barry Lapelle. Will you let me pass?"
"Certainly. But I'm going into the house with you, understand that. I'd just as soon wait there for your mother as anywhere else."
"When my mother hears about this she will have you horsewhipped within an inch of your life," cried the girl furiously.