“You keep quiet,” Edith flared at him. “I'm going to work. That's all you need to know. I can't sit here and let a man who doesn't belong to us provide every bite we eat, if you can.” Willy Cameron got up and closed the door, for Mrs. Boyd an uncanny ability to hear much that went on below.
“Now,” he said when he came back, “we might as well have this out. Dan has a right to be told, Edith, and he can help us plan something.” He turned to Dan. “It must be kept from your mother, Dan.”
“Plan something!” Dan snarled. “I know what to plan, all right. I'll find the—” he broke into foul, furious language, but suddenly Willy Cameron rose, and there was something threatening in his eyes.
“I know who it is,” Dan said, more quietly, “and he's got to marry her, or I'll kill him.”
“You know, do you? Well, you don't,” Edith said, “and I won't marry him anyhow.”
“You will marry him. Do you think I'm going to see mother disgraced, sick as she is, and let you get away with it? Where does Akers live? You know, don't you? You've been there, haven't you?”
All Edith's caution was forgotten in her shame and anger.
“Yes, I know,” she said, hysterically, “but I won't tell you. And I won't marry him. I hate him. If you go to him he'll beat you to death.” Suddenly the horrible picture of Dan in Akers' brutal hands overwhelmed her. “Dan, you won't go?” she begged. “He'll kill you.”
“A lot you'd care,” he said, coldly. “As if we didn't have enough already! As if you couldn't have married Joe Wilkinson, next door, and been a decent woman. And instead, you're a—”
“Be quiet, Dan,” Willy Cameron interrupted him. “That sort of talk doesn't help any. Edith is right. If you go to Akers there will be a fight. And that's no way to protect her.”