“Quit! You mean you ain't goin' to work for Mrs. Thankful?”
“I ain't gain' to work for nobody. Why should I? I've got money enough to live on, ain't I? I've got an income of my own. I ain't told Mrs. Thankful yet, but I have quit, just the same.”
Imogene put down the dishcloth.
“This is your sister's doin's, I guess likely,” she observed.
“No, it ain't! If—if it was, by time, I wouldn't do it! Hannah treats me like a dog—yes, sir, like a dog. I'm goin' to show her. A man's got some feelin's, if he is a dog.”
“How are you goin' to show her?”
“I don't know, but I be. I'll run away, if I can't do nothin' else. I'll show her I'm sick of her bossin'.”
Imogene seemed to be thinking. She regarded Mr. Parker with a steady and reflective stare.
“What are you lookin' at me like that for?” demanded Kenelm, after the stare had become unbearable.
“I was thinkin'. Humph! What would you do to fix it so's your sister would stop her bossin' and you could have your own way once in a while?”