Katie folded her arms across her breast and tossed her black head.
"There's only one thing I can think of," said she, and waited.
Mr. Porter breathed hard.
"And what," he inquired, still without looking at her, "is that?"
Katie took a soft step forward. She rested her hands upon the arm of his desk and leaned her face toward him.
"Don't you know?" she asked in a low voice.
Mr. Porter shot, from the corner of his eyes, one of his crooked glances at her.
"I am not quite sure," he said.
"Then," replied Katie, "I'll tell you. The only one thing I can think of that'd get you to let me off is the only one you can think of yourself—an' that's the one I won't do!"
Her voice, which had begun so softly, ended in a loud note. Her hands, which had been open, clinched. Her body, which had been relaxed, stiffened.