'Gang up-stairs wi' ye.' And he pointed to a door in the wall concealing a staircase to the upper story.
She sprang up, looked at the door and at him irresolutely, and then stayed where she was, gaunt, pale, fever-eyed, the wreck and ghost of her old self.
The steps neared.

There was a rough voice in the kitchen, a surprised exclamation, and her father had pushed past his brother into the room.
John Backhouse no sooner saw his daughter than his dull weather-beaten face flamed into violence.

With an oath he raised the heavy whip he held in his hand and flung himself toward her.
'Naw, ye'll not du'at!' cried Jim, throwing himself with all his feeble strength on to his brother's arm.

John swore and struggled, but the old man stuck like a limpet.
'You let 'un aleann' said Mary, drawing her tattered shawl over her breast.

'If he aims to kill me, aa'll not say naa.