"Oh, no, no," said Jenny. She clutched at Annie's skirt as the old wretch got upon her feet. But Annie turned on her and twitched her rags away.
"You pelton, too? Much better be live and with rich good man than dead with Pete and Pete with a lope on him neck. I go tell Mr. Quin, him very good man, kloshe man."
But Jenny implored her not to go to him. And as she sobbed that she was afraid of Quin the old hag gathered up more and more of the silk until she had nearly all that poor Jenny wasn't sitting on.
"You stay. I go see, go think what I do for you. I no go to Mr. Quin, I promise, tenas toketie."
And she got away and went straight to the office in which Quin was to be found, and asked to see him.
"Quit, you old devil," said the young clerk, "pull your freight out of this. No klootchmen wanted here."
She had her ugly old face inside the door and the boy threw the core of an apple at her.
"I want see Mr. Quin," she cried, as she dodged the missile.
"I want see him. You no kumtuks. Mr. Quin see me, I tell you he want see me. Ya, pelton!"
The boy knew very little Chinook and missed half the beauty of what she went on to say to him. But she told him much about his parents and a great deal about his sisters that would have been disagreeable even if translated with discretion. By the time she came to a climax, her voice rose to a shriek that might have been audible in the Mill itself, and Quin came out in a rage.