"He promised me to Lem!" wailed Flea.
"And he—promised—you to—me!"
So deliberately did Everett speak that Fledra was on her feet before the sentence was finished. Horror, deep-seated, rested in the eyes raised to his. Oh, surely she had not heard aright!
"What did ye say?" she demanded.
"Your father has promised you to me."
"Oh, that's why you done it, was it? That's why ye fit Sister Ann and Brother Horace? 'Cause ye wanted me to go with ye! I hate ye like I hate—the devil!"
Her words, grossly coarse, struck and stung the man to action. He strode forward and grasped her arm roughly in his fingers.
"You little fury, what do I care how much you hate me? It's a man's pleasure to conquer a woman like you. You can have your choice between the other man and me."
Dumb with fright and amazement, his treachery driving every thought from her mind for the moment, Fledra looked at him.
"I'd rather go with Lem," she got out at last, "'cause I couldn't stand yer hellish pretty face nor yer white teeth. They look like them big stones standing over the dead men out yonder."