She considered a moment before replying. This put a different face on the matter.
"Could ye come tomorrow?" she demanded finally.
"Yes, at two, then. Tell your father, please."
"All right," muttered Tess.
Waldstricker's whip cut a cluster of wild flowers and nipped clean the stems of their upraised heads.
"Oh!" cried Tess, sharply, hurt to the quick.
As if reading her thoughts, he retorted, "A flower hasn't a soul, so what does it matter?"
Tess turned tear-dimmed eyes from him to Mother Moll's shack. Shocked at his brutality, his arrogant cruelty to the flowers she cherished so tenderly left her dumb. That his statement was false, she knew. To her the flowers expressed Love's sweetness and beauty, but she couldn't explain her faith to this haughty, dictatorial millionaire at her side.
She was all of a tremble as she mounted the narrow shanty steps.
An aged voice croaked, "Come in," in response to her knock. Before pulling the latch string, Tessibel paused and said to Waldstricker,