Pip was twisting her soft, muslin-covered arms back in the torturous way boys learn at school, and in a minute she was compelled to call for mercy.
“Down on your knees!” he cried, forcing her down into that humble position. “Now, apologise for all the caddish things you’ve said about Miss Jones; begin at once,—now, one, two, three—say, ‘I apologise.’”
“Never!” screamed Nell, struggling desperately; “I’ll die first,—o-o-h, ah-h-h, oh—‘I—I—I apologise’—you donkey!”
“More than that,—‘I should be glad to be half as beautiful and good and lady-like.’”
“‘B-beautiful and good and l-l-lady-like,’” repeated
Nell, with a gasp and a cry between each word. “Oh, Meg, make him stop!”
“‘I only said those caddish things because I [38] ]was jealous of her superiority’—hurry up, now!” A scientific turn accompanied his sentence.
“‘C-caddish things because I was jealous—superiority,’—oh, Pip! Meg! somebody, quick—he’s half killing me!” Tears of pain and mortification had started to her eyes.
“Let her go, Pip,” Meg said; “you really hurt.” She pulled at his arm, and he released his victim, who fell in a heap on the floor, and said he was “a h-h-horrid w-wretch, and she w-wished she had no brothers.”
Pip picked up his hat and settled his pale blue tie, which had become somewhat disarranged.