"It's no place for you."
"And is it for you, ma'am?" he asked her.
"For me? No—nor for any woman. But I'm talking about you. To-morrow—don't say a word to him downstairs—but to-morrow, when your week's up, take your grip and walk out."
[pg 234]
"The day after to-morrow," amended Jan. "Tomorrow's Saturday and I has to be at the dry dock. But what will become of you?"
"There'll nothing become of me—no more than before."
"He will beat you?"
"Beat me! If he don't any more than beat me!" Jan fancied she was smiling at him in the dark. "But I'd better go. Good-night."
"Good-night," said Jan. "And I'll see you to-morrow to say good-by."