u'll find I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said
with emphasis, speaking each word slowly. She returned his steady gaze
and felt a thrill of victory when he looked away.

"When two people live in a shack," he went on as if she had not spoken,
"there's got to be a deal of give and take on both sides. As long as you
do what I tell you you'll be all right."

A sort of an angry smile crossed Nora's face.

"It's unfortunate that when anyone _tells_ me to do a thing, I have an
irresistible desire not to do it."

"I guess I tumbled to that. You must get over it."

"You've spoken to me once or twice in a way I don't like. I think we
shall get on better if you _ask_ me to do things."

"Don't forget that I can _make_ you do them," he said brutally.

"How?" Really, he was amusing!

"Well, I'm stronger than you are."

"A man can hardly use force in his dealings with a woman," she reminded
him.

"O-o-o-oh?"

"You seem surprised."

"What's going to prevent him?"

"Don't be so silly," she retorted as she turned to look once more out of
the window. But her hands were clammy and, somehow, even though her back
was turned toward him, she knew that he was smiling.

CHAPTER XIII

How much time elapsed before he spoke she had no means of knowing;
probably, at most, two or three minutes. But to the woman gazing out
blindly through the cobweb-covered window into the night, it might well
have been hours. For some illogical reason, which she could not have
explained to herself, she had the feeling that the victory in the coming
struggle would lie with the one who kept silent the longer. To break the
nerve-wrecking spell would be a betrayal of weakness.

None the less, she had arrived at the point when, the tension on her own
nerves becoming too great, she felt she must scream, drive her clenched
hand through the glass of the window, or perform some other act of
hysterical violence; then he spoke, and in the ordinary tone of daily
life.

"Well, I'm going to unpack my grip."

The tone, together with the commonplace words, had the effect of a cold
douche. She drew a sharp breath of relief, her hands unclenched. She was
herself once more. She'd won.

She turned slowly, as if reluctant to abandon the starry prospect
without, to find him bending over a clutter of things scattered about
his half-emptied case. She had been about to say that she must see to
unpacking some of her own things.

"Wash up