You get angry too easily.

Will you come swimming?
The tide is just right." "If she were a man I'd bundle her off the plantation root and crop, whale- boat, Tahitian sailors, sovereigns, and all," he muttered to himself after she had left the room.
But that was the trouble.

She was not a man, and where would she go, and what would happen to her?
He got to his feet, lighted a cigarette, and her Stetson hat, hanging on the wall over her revolver-belt, caught his eye.

That was the devil of it, too.

He did not want her to go.