"Good fer Dade! I wouldn't if I was in her place."
Wheelock gripped a chicken leg imperturbably, and left it bare as a
toothpick with one or two bites at it. His face shone in two clean
sections around his nose and mouth. Behind his ears the dirt lay
undisturbed. The grease on his hands could not be washed off.
Will began to suffer now because Agnes treated the other fellows
too well. With a lover's exacting jealousy, he wanted her in some
way to hide their tenderness from the rest, but to show her
indifference to men like Young and Kinney. He didn't stop to
inquire of himself the justice of such a demand, nor just how it
was to be done. He only insisted she ought to do it.
He rose and left the table at the end of his dinner, without having
spoken to her, without even a tender, significant glance, and he
knew, too, that she was troubled and hurt. But he was suffering. It
seemed as if he had lost something sweet, lost it irrecoverably.
He noticed Ed Kinney and Bill Young were the last to come out,
just before the machine started up again after dinner, and he saw
them pause outside the threshold and laugh back at Agnes standing
in the doorway.
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