Instantly she tasted the hot, salty blood from a cut lip.
"Shut up, you hussy!" he ordered, roughly.

"Have you no shame?
...

My sister Ann spoke well of you.

She made excuses--she pitied you." That for Ellen seemed the culminating blow under which she almost sank.
But one moment longer could she maintain this unnatural and terrible poise.
"Jean Isbel--go along with y'u," she said, impatiently.

"I'm waiting heah for Simm Bruce!" At last it was as if she struck his heart.