"Now, get away, Maggie; there's no room for you on the grass here. Nobody asked you to come."
There were passions at war in Maggie at that moment to have made a tragedy, if tragedies were made by passion only; but the essential τι μεγεθω?which was present in the passion was wanting to the action; the utmost Maggie could do, with a fierce thrust of her small brown arm, was to push poor little pink-and-white Lucy into the cow-trodden mud.