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She ’d watched you; she knew you were worth mor’n all of us in a lump. I know it, too, but some way it riles me worse than if you was n’t.

That ’s silly!

(with growing resentment)

Don’t you suppose I know what you ’ve been doin’ to me. Tryin’ to make a man of me. Tryin’ to help me. Standing up to me and fightin’ me every day, tryin’ to teach me to be decent. Workin’ over me like I was a baby, or somethin’, and you was tryin’ to teach me how to walk. Gettin’ me so upset that every time I don’t do what I ought to do, I get all het up inside; I never was so damned uncomfortable in all my life.

And I never was so happy.

I s ’pose God knew what he was about when he made women.

Of course he did.

Anyhow, he gave ’em the best of it, all right.

You don’t mean that! You can’t!

I do. Let s man get miserable, and he is miserable. A woman ain’t really happy no other way.

Maybe you think I ’m having an easier time right now than you are.