Had he been a little drunk, he would have wept. As
it was, even to himself, his words seemed not to ring very true.

Janet regarded him scornfully. "Yes, that's exactly the way I talk to my
own father!" She paused and her eyes blazed anew. "And there's one
thing, Dave McFadden, that I want to tell you." She stood up from the
table and walked around to her father's place. "When you come in sober,
as cross as a bear and without a word in your mouth for any one, ma and
me hustle about to make you comfortable and don't even talk to each
other for fear of riling you. Yes, we're so thankful you're not drunk
that we crawl around like two little dogs just waiting to lick your hand
and tell you how good you are. Then, when you come home drunk, wanting
to kill some one, we do our best to coax you in here to keep you from
getting mixed up with the neighbours. We're terribly careful to save the
neighbours, and why? So's you won't get arrested. But do we ever save
ourselves? There's never a time when I'm not black and blue all over
with the bruises you give me--kicking me and pinching me and knocking me
down."

In his senses Dave McFadden was not an unkind man, but most of the time
he was not in his senses. Janet's tirade now seemed to be affecting him
much as cheap whiskey did. He staggered to his feet and raised
threatening hands.

"You little slut! If you don't shut up, I--I'll choke you!"

But Janet was far past any intimidation. She stood her ground calmly.
"All right! Go ahead and choke! The thing I've made up my mind to tell
you, Dave McFadden, is this: I'll never again lick your boots when
you're sober nor run from you when you're drunk. Kill me now if you want
to! Go on! You've probably killed ma and if she's lying there in the
hospital dead this minute, I wish you would kill me! Then you could go
drown yourself and that would be the end of all of us!"

Dave McFadden groaned. "For God's sake," he implored, "can't you let up
on me?"

Janet looked at him steadily. "Have you ever let up on us?"

He stared about helplessly and asked, with the querulousness, almost, of
a child: "What is it you want me to do? Do you want me to go to the
hospital to see her?"

Janet laughed drearily. "They wouldn't let you in. I asked the doctor
did he want you to come and he said, no, the sight of you would probably
give her another attack."

Dave shuffled uneasily. "Then I suppose I might as well go to work."

"Yes," Janet agreed, "y