Kyan grasped the pipe with both hands.
"You poor--miserable--impudent--" began the lady.
"Why, Keziah, don't you WANT to ?" He spoke as if the possibility of a refusal had never entered his mind.

"I cal'lated you'd be glad.
You wouldn't have to go away then, nor--My soul and body! some one's knockin' at the door! AND THIS DUMMED PIPE'S FETCHED LOOSE!" The last sentence was a smothered shriek.

Keziah heeded not.

Neither did she heed the knock at the door.

Her hands were opening and closing convulsively.
"Be glad!" she repeated.