"Hut he's 'ard if you cross 'im--an' the child's pay bein' be'ind--'and--" "What's your name ?" demanded Tilda.
"Sarah 'Uggins." "Miss or Missis ?" "What's that to you ?" The blood surged into the woman's face, and she eyed the child suspiciously under lowered brows.

Tilda slipped down from her chair.
She had a sense of standing dangerously on the edge of something evil, forbidden.

If only she could scream aloud and rush out--anywhere--into the open air! "I--I was only wantin' to speak polite," she stammered.

"I been impident to yer.

But O, Sarah 'Uggins--O, ma'am--'elp me see 'im an' get away, an' I'll bless yer name fur ever and ever! Amen." "Nip in front o' me," said the woman, "and be quick, then! First turnin' to the right down the stairs, an' don't clatter yer boots." Tilda obeyed breathlessly, and found herself in a dark stone stairway.
It led down steeply to the basement, and here her guide overtook and stepped ahead of her.