“Yap me your business and get out,” he ordered, picking up his hammer.
He settled his eyes on the sodden face before him, and for a minute or two each plumbed the strength of the other.
“I’m goin’ to marry Jinnie,” announced Maudlin, drawing his large feet together and clasping his fingers over his knees.
The cobbler deliberately placed the hammer beside him once more and leaned back against the wall.
“Who said so?” he asked.
“I do,” defied Maudlin, swaggering.
“Is that what you come to say to me?”
“Yep.”
“Well, now you’re done with your braggin’, get out, an’ get out quick.” 236
But Maudlin didn’t move.