"Oh, dear, dear!" Rachel dropped Peletiah's arm, and she hid her face in
her hands. "Don't make me go back," she wailed. "It's too dreadful there,
for Mrs. Fisher won't have me if you send me away, 'n' Gran 'll get hold of
me somehow--she'll--she'll find me, I know she will," and she shivered all
over.
"Who's Gran?" Peletiah drew quite near.
"She's Gran," said Rachel, shivering again. "Oh, dear! don't ask me; and
she beat me dreadful, an'--" her voice broke.
"She beat you?" cried Peletiah.
"Awful," said Rachel, cramming her fingers into her mouth to keep from
crying. "Oh, dear, dear! don't send me back."
Peletiah took two or three steps off, then came back.
"You may shake me if you want to," he said generously, "and you ain't going
back."
"Well, she isn't going to shake me," said Ezekiel stoutly, "and my Ma will
send her back if she shakes me, so there!"
"I hain't shook you yet," said Rachel, disclosing her black eyes between
her fingers and viewing him with cold disdain.
"Well, you ain't going to," repeated Ezekiel, with decision.
"Her Gran beat her." Peletiah went over to his brother. "She beat Rachel."
He kept repeating it, over and over; meanwhile Ezekiel moved about in
confusion, digging the toes of his shoes into the gravel to hide it.
"Well, she ain't going to shake me," he said, but it was in a fainter
voice, and he didn't look at Rachel's eyes.
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