“I won’t kiss you. I won’t. Stop doing that! Ugh! you’re like a dog—you ought to find lovers round lamp-posts—you beast—you fiend!”
He did not answer. With an expression of the most absurd determination he pressed ever more heavily upon her. He did not even look at her—but rapped out in a sharp voice: “Keep quiet—keep quiet.”
“Gar-r! Why are men so strong?” She began to cry. “Go away—I don’t want you, you dirty creature. I want to murder you. Oh, my God! if I had a knife.”
“Don’t be silly—come and be good!” He dragged her towards the bed.
“Do you suppose I’m a light woman?” she snarled, and swooping over she fastened her teeth in his glove.
“Ach! don’t do that—you are hurting me!”
She did not let go, but her heart said, “Thank the Lord I thought of this.”
“Stop this minute—you vixen—you bitch.” He threw her away from him. She saw with joy that his eyes were full of tears. “You’ve really hurt me,” he said in a choking voice.
“Of course I have. I meant to. That’s nothing to what I’ll do if you touch me again.”
The strange man picked up his hat. “No thanks,” he said grimly. “But I’ll not forget this—I’ll go to your landlady.”