"You shall remain here: you cannot go away. You are engaged for a whole year. You will not get a kreutzer if you go away."
But Mistress Borcsa proved that she was in earnest, as she forcibly tore her arm from Sárvölgyi's grasp.
"I don't want your money," she said, wheeling her barrow further. "What you wish to keep back from my salary may remain for the master's—coffin-nails."
"What, you cursed witch!" exclaimed Sárvölgyi. "What did you dare to say to me?"
Mistress Borcsa was already outside the gate. She thrust her head in again, and said:
"I made a mistake. I ought to have said that the money you keep from me may remain—to buy a rope."
Sárvölgyi, enraged, ran to his room to fetch a stick, but before he came out with it, Mistress Borcsa was already wheeling her vehicle far away on the other side of the street, and it would not have been fitting for a gentleman to scamper after her before the eyes of the whole village, and to commence a combat of doubtful issue in the middle of the street with the irritated Amazon.
The nearest village was not far from Lankadomb; yet before she reached it, Mistress Borcsa's soul was brimming over with wrath.
Every man would consider it beneath his dignity to submit tamely to such a dishonor.
As she reached the village of her birth, she made straight for the courtyard of her former husband's house.