"I meant to, Charlie, but he was out of town and I didn't know his address."
"That's likely!" The actor laughed harshly. "Tha'sh good one, that is! You going to marry him, and didn't know his address. Expect me to believe that?"
"It's true, Charlie—it's God's truth."
"You're a liar!"
"Charlie—!"
"I say, you're a liar! Wha'sh more, I mean it."
Quard waved his hand, palm down, to indicate his scornful disposition of her yarn. Then he staggered, steadied himself by clutching the back of a chair, and conscious how this betrayed his condition, worked himself into a towering rage to cover it.
"I know better. 'F you'd ever got a chance to marry that feller, you'd 've jumped at it. He'd never've got away. You wouldn't 've given him no more chance'n you did me—you'd 've pulled wool over his eyes same way. I know what'm talking about. You're a liar, a dam' dirty little liar, tha's what you are."
Joan's colour deserted her face entirely.
"Charlie! don't you say that to me again."