A virile quality in the boy's anger made the difference of sex more apparent.

He looked at her, holding his wrath, as it were, like a two-edged sword which must smite some one.

"If I thought you cared about that man that has jilted you--and I've heard the talk about it," said he, "I'd feel like shooting _you_." "You needn't shoot," returned Madelon.
The boy looked at her as angrily as if she were Burr Gordon.

Suddenly her mouth quivered a little and her eyes fell.

The boy flung both his arms around her.