I am going at once--you may scream if you like, but I should myself prefer that you should keep quiet.

As to the dog, we have not yet heard the last of the matter; for the present I will keep him here.

If you are quiet and come to your senses, he may live for aught I care; but if you are refractory, a rope and a stone can soon be found, and the stream runs close below.

You know I never jest--least of all just now." Sirona's whole frame was in the most violent agitation.

Her breath came quickly, her limbs trembled, but she could not find words to answer him.
Phoebicius saw what was passing in her mind, and he went on, "You may snort proudly now; but an hour will come when you will crawl up to me like your lame dog, and pray for mercy.