"There ain't no need as I know of for you to go back at all."
Meg sat up, while a look of incredulity crossed her face.
"But ain't you sent to fetch me?" she asked.
"No; they said you'd come back quick enough when you were hungry. I came on my own account."
"Oh, Jem, why did you come?" she asked reproachfully. "I want to be lost to 'em. I don't want ever to go back. Hunger won't drive me. I'm hungry now, but I'd starve, rather than that. I hate 'em, mother and father and all," Meg's voice rang out with passion and pain. "If I can't get as far as Minton," she added, "I'll just go to sleep in the heather and not wake up."
"Are you very hungry, Meg?"
"Yes," said the girl bluntly.
"You've had no breakfast?"
"No, I started as soon as there was a streak of light in the sky, and I've been walking ever since. What's the time?"
"It's getting on for six o'clock. If you don't make haste the sun will set and you won't get to Minton before dark."