We 'ain't never had ill feeling about such a thing as that.

I shouldn't have spoke that way if I hadn't been all wrought up, and--" Suddenly Sylvia thrust her hand under her white apron and swept it up to her face.

She shook convulsively.
"Now, Sylvia, of course you didn't mean a blessed thing.

I've known you were all wrought up for a long time, but I haven't known what about.

Don't take on so, Sylvia." A little, hysterical sob came from Sylvia under the apron.