Drink this, damn you!" Sputtering and choking, her heart beating wildly with fear and rage, Rosalie was thrown back upon the straw by the woman.

Her throat was burning from the effects of the whiskey and her eyes were blinded by the tears of anger and helplessness.
"Don't come any of your highfalutin' airs with me, you little cat," shrieked the old woman, rubbing a knee that Rosalie had kicked in her struggles.
"Lay still there," added Sam.

"We don't want to hurt you, but you got to do as I tell you.

Understand?
Not a word, now! Gimme that coffee-pot, Davy.

Go an' see that everything's locked up an' we'll turn in fer the night.