“I am going,” said Gregory.
Em looked up.
“But the sloots are as full as rivers; you cannot go. We can wait for the post,” she said.
“I am not going for the post,” said Gregory, impressively.
Em looked for explanation; none came.
“When will you be back?”
“I am not coming back.”
“Are you going to your friends?”
Gregory waited, then caught her by the wrist.
“Look here, Em,” he said between his teeth, “I can’t stand it any more. I am going to her.”