I'm going." "No, you ain't.

Not yet.

I want you to stay." At that moment Stephen's voice reached them from the adjoining room.
"I tell you I shall, Caro!" it proclaimed, fiercely.

"Do you suppose I'm going to permit that fellow to come here again--or to go until he is made to understand what we think of him and why?
No, by gad! I'm the man of this family, and I'll tell him a few things." Pearson's jaw set grimly.
"You may let go of my wrist, Captain Warren," he said; "I'll stay." Possibly Stephen's intense desire to prove his manliness made him self-conscious.

At any rate, he never appeared more ridiculously boyish than when, an instant later, he marched into the library and confronted his uncle and Pearson.
"I--I want to say--" he began, majestically; "I want to say--" He paused, choking, and brandished his fist.
"I want to say--" he began again.
"All right, Stevie," interrupted the captain, dryly, "then I'd say it if I was you.