"Get up," said she. "I'd be a man if I was a man. Get up. I'm not going to hurt you."
If the intruder had any sense of humor, this might have touched it; the idea of this little fairy-queen of a woman, almost small enough to have stepped out of a rain-lily, hurting him! But it was so different from what he had been awaiting that it startled him; and then, perhaps, he had some of the superstition that usually haunts the evil and ignorant, and felt that such small women were uncanny. He was on his feet now, towering over her.
"No," said he, gruffly; "I don't suppose you're going to hurt me. And I'm not going to hurt you, if you hand over that money."
"What money?" opening her eyes with a wide sort of astonishment.
"Come! None of your lip. I want that money!"
"Why, I haven't any money! Oh, yes, I have, to be sure, but—"
"I thought you'd remember it," said the man, with a grin.
"But I want it!" she exclaimed.
"I want it, too!" said he.
"Oh, it wouldn't do you any good," she reasoned. "Fifteen dollars. And it's all the money I've got in the world!"