"I like men.... I cared most for Stephen Watts.... Then one day I had a great fright.... Shall I tell it?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, Sir John's gallantries neither pleased nor flattered me from the first. But he was very cautious what he said and did in Douw Fonda's house, and never spoke to me save coldly when others were present, or when he was alone with us and Mr. Fonda was awake and not dozing in his great chair.... Well, there came a day when Mr. Fonda went to the house of Captain Fonda, and I was alone in the house....
"And Sir John came.... Shall I tell it?"
"Tell it, Penelope."
"I've had it long in my mind. I wished to ask you if it lessened me in your esteem.... For Sir John was drunk, and, finding me alone, he conducted roughly—and followed me and locked us in my chamber.... I was horribly afraid.... I had never struck any living being before. But I beat his red face with my hands until he became confused and stupid—and there was blood on him and on me.... And my kerchief was torn off and my hair all tangled.... I beat him till he dropped my door key, and so unlocked my door and returned again to him, silent and flaming, and drove him with blows out o' my chamber and out of the house—all over blood as he was, and stupid and drunk.... His negro man got him on his horse and rode off, holding him on.
"And none knew—none know, save Sir John and you and I."
After a silence I said in a controlled voice: "If Sir John comes this way I shall hope not to miss him.... I shall pray God not to miss this—gentleman."
"Do you think meanly of me that he used me so?"
I did not answer.