"What are you afraid of?
Let's have the truth, now.

Wasn't he hitting you ?" "He, he, he!" giggled the old man, torn by the desire of self-preservation on one side and, let us hope, by a wish for justice on the other.

"He warn't hittin' of me.

He's my son, he is....

'Alb is....
We were just having--" "There! get out of this," said the policeman, releasing Frank with a shove.