"To some place where folks like me."
"I like you, Jude!" protested John.
Judith turned to him quickly. "Why do you thrash me and kick me, then?"
"Kids have to be trained, and you are as hard bitted as Buster," answered
John.
"No such thing!" Judith suddenly rose from the table. "It's just bad temper."
"Judith! Judith! Don't!" pleaded her mother.
"Let her alone!" John's voice was not angry. He was eying Judith with inscrutable gaze.
"The next time you even try to kick me, I'm going to run away."
She paused and suddenly Douglas thought, "Jude knows what real loneliness is. She's a very lonely person." He leaned forward and watched her with unwonted sympathy. She swallowed once or twice, and then went on:
"A woman, a dog, and a horse, you don't kick any of them. Peter Knight says so. Maud Day's father never kicks her. He hits her with a belt, maybe, when she doesn't get his horse quickly enough, and maybe he hits her mother when he's drinking, but that's all." Judith began to gather up the dishes with trembling fingers.