“Let me go,” said the girl with great earnestness; then sitting herself down on the floor, before the door, she said, “Bill, let me go; you don’t know what you are doing. You don’t, indeed. For only one hour⁠—do⁠—do!”

“Cut my limbs off one by one!” cried Sikes, seizing her roughly by the arm, “If I don’t think the gal’s stark raving mad. Get up.”

“Not till you let me go⁠—not till you let me go⁠—Never⁠—never!” screamed the girl. Sikes looked on, for a minute, watching his opportunity, and suddenly pinioning her hands dragged her, struggling and wrestling with him by the way, into a small room adjoining, where he sat himself on a bench, and thrusting her into a chair, held her down by force. She struggled and implored by turns until twelve o’clock had struck, and then, wearied and exhausted, ceased to contest the point any further. With a caution, backed by many oaths, to make no more efforts to go out that night, Sikes left her to recover at leisure and rejoined Fagin.

“Whew!” said the housebreaker, wiping the perspiration from his face. “Wot a precious strange gal that is!”