"You killed her," Early Ann shouted. "Shut your mouth, you little bastard," Joe said. He tried to kiss her and she began to fight again. He slapped her face methodically a dozen times. "You're my girl," Joe said. "You're my step daughter, and you ain't eighteen yet." "I am eighteen," she panted. "Let me go, Joe." She sunk her teeth into his arm while he screamed. "Now you're going to get it," he said. He ripped her dress and bent her backward until she thought he would break her back. Then she went limp and did not fight any more, but nothing happened. A moment later he flung her away. "You ain't any good to me, either," he said with a great, wistful sigh. She saw his face in a flash of lightning. There was no lust there nor anger. A cat rubbed against her leg purring loudly. She went out past the man who did not try to stop her. She hurried through the rain toward the hollow of lantern light which was approaching. "Are you all right, Early Ann?" Stud cried. He came running and held up the lantern to look at her. He saw the torn dress and disheveled hair. "Who was it?" he cried. "Where is he?" She shook her head. "You know, but you won't tell." "Yes." He pushed past her angrily and went into the mill holding the lantern high. He snatched up a piece of iron pipe and plunged through the dark rooms shouting. A cat rubbed against him, a big black fellow. Stud heard laughter out in the storm, hurried out into the rain, but could find no one. In the kitchen once more he threw off his wet jacket, hung up the lantern, took Early Ann by the shoulders and tried to make her meet his eyes. "You're not my daughter," he said. "I ... I could...." "No, Mr. Brailsford, please!" She was crying quietly. He let his hands drop from her shoulders, turned and looked out through the black, dripping window toward the lake. He could hear the waves rushing up on the shore and breaking, the wind soughing through the elms and maples. He thought of Sarah lying pale and weak on her bed, and he thought of the robust girl standing in the lamp light behind him. Very deliberately he left the kitchen and climbed the narrow, dark stairs to his bed. BOOK THREE CHAPTER VIII 1