She was not a bit frightened at that, but utterly amazed.
It was a public road.
"How dare you touch me, you villain!" she cried.

"Let me go.

Ah, I shall know you again, with your face like a corpse and your villainous eyes.
Let me go, or I'll have you hung." "Where are you going ?" said Bartley, trembling.
"To my father." "He is not your father; it is a conspiracy.

You must come home with me." "Never!" cried Mary, and by a sudden and violent effort she flung Monckton off.
But Bartley, mad with terror, seized her that moment, and that gave Monckton time to recover and seize her again by the arm.
"You are not of age," cried Bartley; "you are under my authority, and you shall come home with me." "No! no!" cried Mary.

"Help! help! murder! help!" She screamed, and struggled so violently that with all their efforts they could hardly hold her.