“We'll talk up-stairs.”
“I can't take you up. The landlady don't allow it.”
“She don't, eh? You had that Spencer skunk up there.”
His face frightened her, and she lied vehemently.
“That's not so, and you know it, Rudolph Klein. He came inside, just like this, and we stood and talked. Then he went away. He wasn't inside ten minutes.” Her voice rose hysterically, but Rudolph caught her by the arm, and pushing her ahead of him, forced her up the stairs.
“We're going to have this out,” he muttered, viciously.
Half way up she stopped.
“You're hurting my arm.”
“You be glad I'm not breaking it for you.”
He climbed in a mounting fury. He almost threw her into her room, and closing the door, he turned the key in it. His face reminded her of her father's the night he had beaten her, and her instinct of self-preservation made her put the little table between them.