"No, I won't go away. By heaven, you shall tell me the truth. Look here, Hetty, I won't be humbugged—you've got to choose at once."
"What do you mean, Mr. Horace?"
"You've got to choose between that fellow and me."
"Between you and the Squire!" exclaimed Hetty.
She laughed excitedly; the bare idea caused her heart to beat wildly. Her laughter nearly drove Frere mad. He strode up to her, took her hands with force, and looked into her frightened eyes.
"Do you love him? The truth, girl, I will have it."
"Let me go, Mr. Horace."
"I won't until you tell me the truth. It is either the Squire or me; I must hear the truth now or never—which is it, Squire Awdrey or me?"
"Oh, I can't help it," said Hetty, bursting into tears—"it's the Squire—oh, sir, let me go."