“Wait a minute, Jinnie,” he wheedled.
Jinnie threw him a disdainful glance.
“I can’t wait. I’m in a hurry,” she replied, and she hoped the fellow would go on before the car arrived.
Young Bates’ face was crossed by an obstinate expression.
“I’m goin’ to find out,” he said, gruffly, “why you’re ridin’ in rich folks’ motor cars.”
“Isn’t anything to you,” snapped Jinnie.
The wood gatherer came so close that he forced her back a step on the marsh path. Her disdainful eyes had drawn him to her, for, like all men, he could be drawn by the woman who scorned him, and mesmerized by the sheer repulse. By great effort, Jinnie had escaped from Maudlin’s insults for many months, but he had never been quite so aggressive as this! Now she could see the dark blood in his passionate face mount even to the whites of his eyes, those eyes which coveted the youngness of her body, the vitality of her girl life, and all the good within her. 155
“Get out of my way!” she said sharply. “You let me alone. I’ve got a right to get my wood hauled if I can.”
“Well, you don’t do it any more,” said Maudlin. “If you’re too lazy to carry your own wood, I’ll help you myself.... You can’t go no more to King’s in his car.”
Jinnie turned a pair of glinting blue eyes upon him.