Mrs. Hobbs departed, outraged dignity in her walk and manner.
“Am—am I goin'?” faltered Mary-'Gusta.
Zoeth nodded.
“Yes,” he said, “you're goin'. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here.”
“No, I'd rather go, if—if I can take David and the dolls. Can I?”
“Can she, Shadrach?”
Captain Shad, who was pacing the floor, turned savagely.
“What do you ask me that for?” he demanded. “This is your doin's, 'tain't mine. You said it first, didn't you? Yes, yes, let her take the dolls and cats—and cows and pigs, too, if she wants to. Jumpin' fire! What do I care? If a feller's bound to be a fool, a little live stock more or less don't make him any bigger one. . . . Land sakes! I believe she's goin' to cry again. Don't do that! What's the matter now?”
The tears were starting once more in the girl's eyes.
“I—I don't think you want me,” she stammered. “If you did you—you wouldn't talk so.”