ability about this new manner, that disquieted the
man a little, but he said gravely:

"Them feelin's jest comes about because what ye felt yestiddy war all
new ter ye. Hit's nat'ral enough, but hit won't endure."

She went on ignoring his protestations. "Ther only reason I _didn't_
kill ye, war thet I'd done _let_ ye . . . an' I hated myself next es
bad es you. Folks tells me thet I hain't always goin' ter want ter
turn men back. Mebby thet's true."

"Ye knows full well a'ready, thet hit's true," he declared vehemently.

"Be thet es hit may, no man's ter wed me without he wooes me fust, an'
no man hain't never goin' ter lay a hand on me without I consents. Now
I aims ter try an' fergit erbout yestiddy--an' you'd better fergit hit
too."

The man's eyes broke into vehement challenge. "So long es thar's life
in me I won't fergit hit!"

"I reckon ye'd better heer me out," she reminded him with an ominous
note and he nodded his head, waiting, while she continued.

"Yestiddy I seemed crazed--but terday I hain't. Ye 'pears ter be right
sartain thet I loves ye. I don't know, but I either loves ye or I
hates ye like all hell. Ef I loves ye I kain't kill ye--an' ef I hates
ye thar's time enough."

"But Alexander, you do love me! I know----"

"Wa'al, I don't--an' thet's a right pithy point ter my manner of
thinking! Ye're a right masterful sort of feller, an' ye likes ter
plow yore way through life gloryin' in yore strength an' forcin' your
will on weaker folks." She paused an instant then added significantly:
"But I'm a right masterful sort of woman myself--an' I hain't ter be
nowise driv. Ef you an' me kain't consort peaceable I reckon we'll
jest erbout rake hell afore we finishes up our warfare."

As he looked at her his admiration was flaming. Possibly it was best,
just now, to advance slowly.

"I'm willin' ter wait," he conceded slowly. "Ye're wuth hit."

"Ye says I loves ye. If I finds thet out fer myself, in due course
I'll wed with ye. Ef I don't, I won't, but----" Her voice broke so
suddenly out of the quiet plane in which it had been pitched, that her
climax of words came like a sharp thunder clap on still air. "But ef
ye seeks ter fo'ce me, or ef ever ergin ye lays a hand on me or teches
me, 'twell I tells ye ye kin, afore God in Heaven, one of us has got
ter die! An' I won't never be with ye unarmed, nuther."

Halloway did not judge it a good time to mention that her allusion to
mar