"To be standing so meekly before a woman. You imagined that she would be doing that to you."
"You're not a woman," Curly growled; "you're a she-devil."
"Oh, so you've changed your opinion of me," and Glen laughed. "I am very glad of that, for you won't be crazy about me any more."
"Crazy! Your face an' figure would drive any man crazy."
"Dear me, do I look as horrible as all that? It's a wonder you are not a raving lunatic."
"I will if you keep me here much longer. Let me go an' I'll never trouble you again. That slick guy can have you fer all I care. I don't want anything to do with a woman who holds ye up at the point of a gun."
"No, I am sure you don't, Curly. You prefer to prey upon women who are helpless, and who cannot lift a hand in self-defense. But I am different, as you have found out to your cost."
"Let me go, will ye?" the wretch pleaded. "I've had enough of this."
"Oh, have you, eh? Well, that's interesting. But, look here, I am not through with you yet. You came here without any invitation, though in a way I am glad that you did come, and I intend to keep you here for a while."
"H'm, ye must like my company after all," Curly sneered. "You're a queer one."