"A patient man I be, wunnerful, terribul patient," he went on slowly. "Night after night hev I come here, watching this door, knowing full well that sooner or later ’ee must pass it. Night, after night hev I gone away and said to myself, ’To-morrer,’ and see ’ee’ve come, just as I ’lowed ’ee would——" he paused. "When’ll the day be, Betty Hanson?"
"Never, never," she said, "never!" She clasped her hands over her heaving breast, "Never, Abram Lestwick! My funeral day will come afore my marriage day wi’ ’ee!"
He nodded his head slowly. He had found a button, a button hanging by a mere thread; he twisted and tore at it till it came off, then he fingered the button, rolling it between finger and thumb, passing it restlessly from one hand to the other till at last he dropped it. He stooped and fumbled in the dust hunting for it as though it were something of great account. The girl clasped her face between her two hands and looked at him, terror in her eyes.
He had not found the thing, he straightened himself up, but his yes still roved the ground.
"I don’t pester ’ee, my maid, I but come to look after my own!"
"’Ee be chose by I, willed to me by your grandmother, so ’ee du belong to I! and one day I will hev ’ee, Betty Hanson——"
He stood staring at her, forgetting the button. About them was the dusk of the night. His restless eyes roved up and down the long straight road, not a soul was there to be seen. And then the slow passion that sometimes came to him moved him. He had been patient, truly he had said he was patient, patient and slow, yet as sure as death itself—why should he wait? He took a step towards her, the girl shrank back, the green door was behind her, she might have lifted the latch and escaped, but a strange feeling of impotence, of helplessness was on her, she could only stare at the man with distended eyes.
"’Ee do belong to I!" he said. And he said it again and then again, and each time he took a slow step toward her.
"No, no, Abram——" her voice rose shrill with terror, for his arms were suddenly about her, his hateful hands were on her, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
"Let—let I go, for God’s sake—Abram—let I go!"
But he did not answer, he dragged her towards him, her face closer to his, his breath was on her lips now, his eyes shone brilliantly, their dull, lifelessness was gone, the madness of his pent-up passion was on him.