"It's not that I want to see you," I answered, at a loss whether to answer him or no.
"Of course not, my dear. You have not shown any liking for my company, I am sorry to say, though I mean you no harm. But I hope it will be different hereafter," he answered, leering at me.
"It will not, sir! You have no right to pursue me, and I will never go with you; I'll die first."
"Oh, yes, you will! And I will not let you get away again, either," he answered, confidently.
"You can't fasten me so I'll not escape. I'd kill you if I couldn't get away without," I answered, my anger passing all bounds.
"You would, would you, you little devil! But what I want is for the best, and go back with me you shall," he answered, determinedly, and as if that ended the matter.
"I say I'll not—never! You think me a child, and I was, but you have made me something more. Don't come near me! I'll never let you take me alive!" I screamed, as he took a step in my direction, my anger growing to white heat.
"Tut, tut, child! Do not fly into such a passion. Listen to reason. I am not going to harm you," he replied, soothingly.
"What is all this about, anyway?" the man who had been seated beside Moth here interposed, coming forward and holding the lantern aloft so as to see me the better. "Good God! lad, what is the matter with your face?" he went on. "You look as if you had been run over by a harrow."
"It was scratched in the woods," I replied, quieting down.