He turned all bully and, with his hands thrust deep in his trousers-pockets, his feet planted wide apart, stared at her in indescribable insolence.
"When I'm ready—my dear."
He swaggered closer and again quickly caught her wrist when she would have gone.
"Señor Spiser forgets sometimes that he is a married man."
Spiser dropped Nan's arm as though it burned him, and whirled.
Mrs. Gallagher, her apron filled with eggs, stood like a statue regarding him with eyes which did, indeed, look like the eyes of the catamount he had called her and her moccasined feet had allowed her to approach with something of its stealth.
It seemed to Nan that Spiser quailed before the woman's gaze.
"Look out, be careful!" His tone was a threat, but Nan detected the bravado in it and she was sure that in some way her strange protector held the whip-hand. And he was married—this was the secret, or a part of it, which explained Mrs. Gallagher's power.
