He became once more irritable and abject.
"Let her gang her gait," he said, throwing himself into a chair.

"But I tell you I shall not put up with this kind of thing much longer, Marcella." "I shall not ask you, papa," she said steadily, as she moved towards the door.

Mrs.Boyce paused where she stood, and looked after her daughter, struck by her words.

Mr.Boyce simply took them as referring to the marriage which would emancipate her before long from any control of his, and fumed, without finding a reply.
The maid-servant who, by Mrs.Boyce's orders, was to accompany Marcella to the village, was already at the front door.

She carried a basket containing invalid food for little Willie, and a lighted lantern.
It was a dark night and raining fast.