Ruby could hardly believe it. She had expected some opposition,—what she would have called a few words; but she had never imagined that her aunt would threaten to keep her in the streets all night. It seemed to her that she had bought the privilege of amusing herself by hard work. Nor did she believe now that her aunt would be as hard as her threat. "I've a right to go if I like," she said.
"That's as you think. You haven't a right to come back again, any way."
"Yes, I have. I've worked for you a deal harder than the girl down-stairs, and I don't want no wages. I've a right to go out, and a right to come back;—and go I shall."
"You'll be no better than you should be, if you do."
"Am I to work my very nails off, and push that perambulator about all day till my legs won't carry me,—and then I ain't to go out, not once in a week?"
"Not unless I know more about it, Ruby. I won't have you go and throw yourself into the gutter;—not while you're with me."
"Who's throwing themselves into the gutter? I've thrown myself into no gutter. I know what I'm about."
"There's two of us that way, Ruby;—for I know what I'm about."
"I shall just go then." And Ruby walked off towards the door.
"You won't get out that way, any way, for the door's locked;—and the area gate. You'd better be said, Ruby, and just take your things off."