"A squatter-girl can't live a minute without some damn bloke wants to take her from her Daddy's shanty.... I ain't a-goin', I says!"
How brave she felt, with the student near! for there was an expression upon his face that gave her courage. He looked so strong, so brave—and he had come when she had prayed. Something took from her the terror of the night when she had proclaimed her motherhood to him. Perhaps Teola had told him the truth. When he had turned from her in the agony of the confession, he had scorned her with his proud, dark eyes. Now he threw her the same protective glance that she had received before the tragedy.
The silence in the room became oppressive.
"I ain't a-goin'," she said again, to break it.
Ben was upon the floor. He feared to rise, for Frederick stood threateningly over him.
"She goes to my shanty," insisted Ben, screwing his face to peep through the swollen lids. "She and the brat goes to my hut.... I air its pappy!"
Frederick staggered back against the door with a groan, Tess catching her breath in a sob. She could not exonerate herself because of Teola; she knew from Frederick's emotion at Ben's assertion that his sister had not told him. But he should not believe the lie that Letts had uttered.
She saw the fine face of the student fall into his hands, and shudder after shudder run over the giant frame. Ben Letts leered at him with his twisted face, as a demon might at a soul in torment. The boy suffered for her—that was enough. The front portion of her skirt had been almost torn away in her struggle, and unconsciously she lifted it, and pinned a thorn more closely in its place. But for an instant she held back the words ready upon her tongue, and with one long step she reached Frederick, placing her hand upon his arm.
"Don't touch me, please," he shuddered. "It's awful—awful! And I—I loved you so!"