"You are very strong."

Her gaze rested for a moment on the muscular neck, heavy corded, almost
bull-like, bronzed by the sun, spilling over with rugged health and
strength. And though he sat there, blushing and humble, again she felt
drawn to him. She was surprised by a wanton thought that rushed into her
mind. It seemed to her that if she could lay her two hands upon that
neck that all its strength and vigor would flow out to her. She was
shocked by this thought. It seemed to reveal to her an undreamed
depravity in her nature. Besides, strength to her was a gross and
brutish thing. Her ideal of masculine beauty had always been slender
gracefulness. Yet the thought still persisted. It bewildered her that
she should desire to place her hands on that sunburned neck. In truth,
she was far from robust, and the need of her body and mind was for
strength. But she did not know it. She knew only that no man had ever
affected her before as this one had, who shocked her from moment to
moment with his awful grammar.

"Yes, I ain't no invalid," he said. "When it comes down to hard-pan, I
can digest scrap-iron. But just now I've got dyspepsia. Most of what
you was sayin' I can't digest. Never trained that way, you see. I like
books and poetry, and what time I've had I've read 'em, but I've never
thought about 'em the way you have. That's why I can't talk about 'em.
I'm like a navigator adrift on a strange sea without chart or compass.
Now I want to get my bearin's. Mebbe you can put me right. How did you
learn all this you've ben talkin'?"

"By going to school, I fancy, and by studying," she answered.

"I went to school when I was a kid," he began to object.