But it chanced just then
that she glanced at Frona, and all expression was brushed from her face
save the infinite tiredness. She smiled wistfully at the girl, and
without a word turned and went down the trail.
And without a word Frona sprang upon her sled and was off. The way was
wide, and Corliss swung in his dogs abreast of hers. The smouldering
rebellion flared up, and she seemed to gather to herself some of the
woman's recklessness.
"You brute!"
The words left her mouth, sharp, clear-cut, breaking the silence like
the lash of a whip. The unexpectedness of it, and the savagery, took
Corliss aback. He did not know what to do or say.
"Oh, you coward! You coward!"
"Frona! Listen to me--"
But she cut him off. "No. Do not speak. You can have nothing to say.
You have behaved abominably. I am disappointed in you. It is
horrible! horrible!"
"Yes, it was horrible,--horrible that she should walk with you, have
speech with you, be seen with you."
"'Not until the sun excludes you, do I exclude you,'" she flung back at
him.
"But there is a fitness of things--"
"Fitness!" She turned upon him and loosed her wrath. "If she is unfit,
are you fit? May you cast the first stone with that smugly
sanctimonious air of yours?"
"You shall not talk to me in this fashion. I'll not have it."
He clutched at her sled, and even in the midst of her anger she noticed
it with a little thrill of pleasure.
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