Vic felt the child tremble, but there was no burst of excuses.
"She didn't want to come," he urged.

"But I kep' on askin' her." The emotionless eye of "Daddy Dan" held upon Joan.

"I told you not to come," he said.

Joan swallowed in mute agony, and the wolf-dog slipped to the side of the master and licked his hand as though in dumb intercession.

The blood ran coldly in the veins of Gregg, as if he saw a fist raised to strike the little girl.
"You go out." She went swiftly, at that, sidled past her father with her eyes lifted, fascinated, and so out the door where she paused an instant to flash back a wistful appeal.