by God

With a frown, Rye studies my face. He disengages my arm in order to take my hand in both of his and squeeze it tight. "Why don't you go back and confront him, sweetheart? I'll go with you, by God. I don't like the idea of him bullying you, and he needs to hear that."

I saw that map and I said right then, 'Someday I'm going to make a map of how it was that day, make a drawing of Pearl Harbor, and I'll make it right.' And I did, by God.