She had never had the privilege of seeing Steve in the active exercise
of his late profession, or she would have recognized the look. It was
the one which proclaims the state of mind commonly known as "being
fighting mad," and in other days had usually heralded a knock-out for
some too persistent opponent.
"Say, ma'am, you want to cut that out. That line of talk don't go."
Great is the magic of love that can restore a man in an instant of time
from being an obsequious wreck to a thing of fire and resolution. A
moment before Steve's only immediate object in life had been to stay
quiet and keep out of the way as much as possible. He had never been a
man of ready speech in the presence of an angry woman; words
intimidated him as blows never did, especially the whirl of words which
were at Lora Delane Porter's command in moments of emotion.
But this sudden onslaught upon Mamie, innocent Mamie who had done
nothing to anybody, scattered his embarrassment and filled him with
much the same spirit which sent bantam-weight knights up against
heavy-weight dragons in the Middle Ages. He felt inspired.
"Nix on the 'abandoned creature,'" he said with dignity. "You're on the
wrong wire! This here lady is my affianced wife!"
He went to Mamie and, putting his arm round her waist, pressed her to
him. He was conscious, as he did so, of a sensation of wonderment at
himself.
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