"If you talk like that, they'll take you in, right enough; but as to your gettin' out--" "I'll get out, one way or 'nother--you see!" Tilda promised.

"All you 'ave to do is to take charge o' this crutch an' look after the dog." "Oh, I'll look after 'im!" The child shook a forefinger at 'Dolph, forbidding him to follow her.
The dog sank on his haunches, wagging a tail that swept the grasses in perplexed protest, and watched her as she retraced her way along the towpath.
Tilda did not once look back.

She was horribly frightened; but she had pledged her word now, and it was irredeemable.

From the hurrying traffic of the street she took a final breath of courage, and tugged at the iron bell-pull depending beside the Orphanage gate.

A bell clanged close within the house, and the sound of it almost made her jump out of her boots..