"'See here, Mister man!' I said, 'you're sore,—that's your trouble. But I'm not going to be bullied by you,—so there. I'm through with you, Joe Clark;—and, what's more, you needn't take any interest in me any more. I can look after myself.'
"He gripped my arm. It's black and blue yet. See!
"'You ain't goin',' said he, madder'n ever.
"'Yes! I am,' I said.
"'If you go, by God, I'll kill that son-of-a-gun. Watch me! I ain't forgot him, though maybe he's fool enough to think I have.'
"Then he got kind of soft.
"'Don't you go, Rita.'
"'Why?' I asked.
"'Because I don't want you to.'
"'That's no reason,' I said.