t' marry
yer! But I guess I'm good enough t' kiss yer--" All at once his hands
shot out, closed with the strength of a vise upon her arms, just above
her elbows. "I guess I'm good enough t' kiss yer!" he repeated
gloatingly.

Rose-Marie felt cold fear creeping through her veins. There was
something clammy in Jim's touch, something more than menacing in his
eyes. She knew that her strength was nothing to be pitted against
his--she knew that in any sort of a struggle she would be easily
subdued. And yet she knew that she would rather die than feel his lips
upon hers. She felt an intense loathing for him--the loathing that some
women feel for toads and lizards.

"Jim," she said slowly and distinctly, "let go of me _this instant_!"

The man was bending closer. A thick lock of his heavy hair had shaken
down over his forehead, giving him a strangely piratical look.

"Not much I won't," he told her. "_So I ain't good enough_--"

All at once Rose-Marie felt the blindness of rage--unreasoning, deadly
anger. Only two things she knew--that she hated Jim and that she would
not let him kiss her. She spoke sudden defiant words that surprised
even herself.

"No," she told him, and her voice was hysterically high, "no, you're not
good enough! You're not good enough for _any_ decent girl! You're
bad--too bad to lay your fingers upon me. You're--you're unclean! Let go
of me or I'll"--her courage was oozing rapidly away, "or I'll _scream_!"

Jim Volsky's too red lips were on a level with her own. His voice came
thickly. "Scream, if you want to, little kid!" he said. "Scream t' beat
th' band! There ain't no one t' hear yer. Ma an' Ella an' Bennie are at
the hospital--givin' Pa th' once over. An' th' folks in this house are
used t' yellin'. They'd oughter be! Scream if yer want to--but I'm
a-goin' ter have my kiss!"

Rose-Marie could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. Knowing the
futility--the uselessness of it--she began to struggle. Desperately she
tried to twist her arms from the slim, brutal hands that held them--but
the hands did not loosen their hold. She told herself, as she struggled,
that Jim had spoken the truth--that a scream, more or less, was an
every-day occurrence in the tenement.

All at once she realized, with a dazed, sinking feeling, that the Young
Doctor had had some foundation of truth in certain of his statements.
Some of the slum people were like animals--very like animals! Jim was all
animal as h