And you ought to be thankful you have sensible relations to step in and save you from yourself." Susan tried to speak; her voice died in her throat.

She made another effort.

"I don't want to," she said.
"Then what do you want to do--tell me that!" exclaimed her uncle, rough again.

For her manner was very moving, the more so because there was none of the usual appeal to pity and to mercy.
She was silent.
"There isn't anything else for you to do." "I want to--to stay here." "Do you think Zeke'd harbor you--when you're about certain to up and disgrace us as your mother did ?" "I haven't done anything wrong," said the girl dully.
"Don't you dare lie about that!" "I've seen Ruth do the same with Artie Sinclair--and all the girls with different boys." "You miserable girl!" cried her uncle.
"I never heard it was so dreadful to let a boy kiss you." "Don't pretend to be innocent.

You know the difference between that and what you did!" Susan realized that when she had kissed Sam she had really loved him.