Naomi did not hesitate for an instant.
"You are quite right, sir," she said with the most perfect composure.
"If things go well, I mean to marry Ambrose." "If things go well," I repeated.

"What does that mean?
Money ?" She shook her head.
"It means a fear that I have in my own mind," she answered--"a fear, Mr.Lefrank, of matters taking a bad turn among the men here--the wicked, hard-hearted, unfeeling men.

I don't mean Ambrose, sir; I mean his brother Silas, and John Jago.

Did you notice Silas's hand?
John Jago did that, sir, with a knife." "By accident ?" I asked.
"On purpose," she answered.

"In return for a blow." This plain revelation of the state of things at Morwick Farm rather staggered me--blows and knives under the rich and respectable roof-tree of old Mr.Meadowcroft--blows and knives, not among the laborers, but among the masters! My first impression was like _your_ first impression, no doubt.