CHAPTER I 11
Habitually obedient to John , I came up to his chair : he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots : I knew he would soon strike , and while dreading the blow , I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it . I wonder if he read that notion in my face ; for , all at once , without speaking , he struck suddenly and strongly . I tottered , and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair .
" That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since ," said he , " and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains , and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since , you rat !"
Accustomed to John Reed ' s abuse , I never had an idea of replying to it ; my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult .
" What were you doing behind the curtain ?" he asked . " I was reading ." " Show the book ." I returned to the window and fetched it thence .
" You have no business to take our books ; you are a dependent , mama says ; you have no money ; your father left you none ; you ought to beg , and not to live here with gentlemen ' s children like us , and eat the same meals we do , and wear clothes at our mama ' s expense . Now , I ' ll teach you to rummage my bookshelves : for they ARE mine ; all the house belongs to me , or will do in a few years . Go and stand by the door , out of the way of the mirror and the windows ."
I did so , not at first aware what was his intention ; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it , I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm : not soon enough , however ; the volume was flung , it hit me , and I fell , striking my head against the door and cutting it . The cut bled , the pain was sharp : my terror had passed its climax ; other feelings