There was a rustle, as if the unhappy girl, on whom she heaped these taunts, ran towards the door, and the speaker swiftly interposed herself before it. It was succeeded by a moment’s pause.
When Miss Dartle spoke again, it was through her set teeth, and with a stamp upon the ground.
“Stay there!” she said, “or I’ll proclaim you to the house, and the whole street! If you try to evade me, I’ll stop you, if it’s by the hair, and raise the very stones against you!”
A frightened murmur was the only reply that reached my ears. A silence succeeded. I did not know what to do. Much as I desired to put an end to the interview, I felt that I had no right to present myself; that it was for Mr. Peggotty alone to see her and recover her. Would he never come? I thought impatiently.
“So!” said Rosa Dartle, with a contemptuous laugh, “I see her at last! Why, he was a poor creature to be taken by that delicate mock-modesty, and that hanging head!”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, spare me!” exclaimed Emily. “Whoever you are, you know my pitiable story, and for Heaven’s sake spare me, if you would be spared yourself!”
“If I would be spared!” returned the other fiercely; “what is there in common between us, do you think?”
“Nothing but our sex,” said Emily, with a burst of tears.
“And that,” said Rosa Dartle, “is so strong a claim, preferred by one so infamous, that if I had any feeling in my breast but scorn and abhorrence of you, it would freeze it up. Our sex! You are an honour to our sex!”
“I have deserved this,” cried Emily, “but it’s dreadful! Dear, dear lady, think what I have suffered, and how I am fallen! Oh, Martha, come back! Oh, home, home!”