"Can a man only think bad when he sees what he doesn't understand?"
Revulsion of feeling was making Joyce desperate. While her new power brought her a delirious joy, it also, she was beginning to understand, brought a terror she had never conceived before. She wished the house were nearer the other human habitations.
"If you're that kind, Jude, you had better take yourself to the Black Cat; you'll find plenty of your liking down there."
Jude was visibly cowering now.
"Why did he kiss you?" he pleaded.
"Suppose I gave him the right?"
"Then what am I to think? Have you given him the right? Does he want the right? I mean the right first—and last?" Jude was gaining ground, but neither he nor the girl to whom he spoke realized it yet. Joyce drew back.
"What is that to you?" she murmured hanging her head. For the moment she was safe—but she felt cornered.
Jude again bent toward her over his hands clenched close.
"It means everything," he panted, "and you know it. I've always liked you best of anything on earth—ever since I went to school, to please you, over to Hillcrest; ever since I tried to keep from the Black Cat, because you asked me to. I've gone following after you kinder heedless-like till—till he gave me a blow twixt the eyes, with his hand-holding and kissing. It drove me crazy. I never thought of any one else with you—least of all John Gaston and you. He didn't seem your kind—I don't know why, but he didn't. Howsomever, if it's all right—God knows I ain't in it—that's all."