"You go and sit down over there!"
No clash of steel or dash of icy water could have had the effect those quiet words had, combined with the immovable calm out of which they came.
The instinct of frightened womanhood was alive. If she could not down the beast in the man by unflinching show of courage—she was lost.
They eyed each other for an instant—then Jude backed away and dropped into the chair across the table.
Still, like animal and tamer they measured each other from the safer distance. Presently the girl spoke, laying all the blame upon him for the fright and suffering.
"What right have you, Jude Lauzoon, to come here insulting me?"
"What right had you," he blurted out, "to make me think you was that—that sort?"
"I didn't make you think it—you thought it because you—wanted to think it—it was in you."
The beast was quelled now, and a stifled sob rose to the boyish throat.
"I—I didn't want to think it—God knows I didn't, Joyce, it was that that drove me mad."