“You cannot, and shall not have it.”
“It does not belong to you.”
“It is in my charge, and I intend to keep it. Go out of my pantry; you are all drunk.”
“Boys!” he said, “pick up that barrel and carry it down the hill. I will attend to her!”
Noli me tangere.
But the habit of obedience of four years still had its effect on the boys, for all the movement they made was in a retrograde direction.
“Wilson,” I said, “you have been in this hospital a long time. Do you think from what you know of me that the whiskey can be taken without my consent?”
He became very insolent.
“Stop that talk; your great friends have all gone, and we won’t stand that now. Move out of the way!”
He advanced towards the barrel, and so did I, only being in the inside, I interposed between him and the object of contention. The fierce temper blazed up in his face, and catching me roughly by the shoulder, he called me a name that a decent woman seldom hears and even a wicked one resents.