At that moment, when he was not touching her, she quite enjoyed herself.
She thrilled at her own angry voice. "To think I should talk to a man
like that!" An angry flush spread over his face--his lips curled back,
showing his teeth--just like a dog, thought Viola. He made a rush at
her, and held her against the wall--pressed upon her with all the weight
of his body. This time she could not get free.

"I won't kiss you. I won't. Stop doing that Ugh! you're like a dog--you
ought to find lovers round lamp-posts--you beast--you fiend!"

He did not answer. With an expression of the most absurd determination
he pressed ever more heavily upon her. He did not even look at her--but
rapped out in a sharp voice: "Keep quiet--keep quiet."

"Gar--r! Why are men so strong?" She began to cry. "Go away--I don't
want you, you dirty creature. I want to murder you. Oh, my God! if I had
a knife."

"Don't be silly--come and be good!" He dragged her towards the bed.

"Do you suppose I'm a light woman?" she snarled, and swooping over she
fastened her teeth in his glove.

"Ach! don't do that--you are hurting me!"

She did not let go, but her heart said, "Thank the Lord I thought of
this."

"Stop this minute--you vixen--you bitch." He threw her away from him.
She saw with joy that his eyes were full of tears. "You've really hurt
me," he said in a choking voice.

"Of course I have. I meant to. That's nothing to what I'll do if you
touch me again."

The strange man picked up his hat. "No thanks," he said grimly. "But
I'll not forget this--I'll go to your landlady."

"Pooh!" She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "I'll tell her
you forced your way in here and tried to assault me. Who will she
believe?--with your bitten hand. You go and find your Schafers."

A sensation of glorious, intoxicating happiness flooded Viola. She
rolled her eyes at him. "If you don't go away this moment I'll bite you
again," she said, and the absurd words started her laughing. Even when
the door was closed, hearing him descending the stairs, she laughed, and
danced about the room.

What a morning! Oh, chalk it up. That was her first fight, and she'd
won--she'd conquered that beast--all by herself. Her hands were still
trembling. She pulled up the sleeve of her gown--great red marks on her
arms. "My ribs will be blue. I'll be blue all over," she reflected. "If
only that beloved Casimir could have seen us." And the feeling of rage
and disgust against Casim