She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as though tempted to reject even that slight favor, then stooped, and went through.
As the wires snapped into place, she halted and looked back at him.
"Maybe I've been mean--but you're been meaner," she summed up, in self-justification.

"I suppose the next thing you will do will be to tell the boys.

Well, I don't care what you do, so long as you never speak to me again.

Go and tell them if you want to--tell.

TELL, do you hear?
I don't want even the favor of your silence!" She dexterously tucked the bundle of white under the uninjured arm, caught the loose folds of her skirt up in her hands, and ran away up the path, not once stopping to see whether he still followed her.
Grant did not follow.