ist on the table
and set the supper things clattering. "You talk to me of Elia! That
devil's imp has been in the way ever since we got married. And d'you
think I'm going to stand for him now?" He sprang to his feet, his eyes
blazing with that fury which of late he rarely took the trouble to
keep in check. "See here," he cried, "you've preached to me enough for
one night, and, fool-like, I've listened to you. I listen to no more.
So, just get busy and hand over those dollars."

But if he was in a fury, he had contrived to stir Eve as he had never
stirred her before.

"You'll not get a cent of them," she cried, her eyes lighting with
sudden cold anger.

For a moment they stood eyeing each other. There was no flinching in
Eve now, no appeal, no fear. And the man's fury was driving him
whither it would. He was gathering himself for a final outburst, and
when it came it was evident he had lost all control of himself.

"You ----! I'll have those dollars if I have to take 'em!"

"You shall not!"

Will flung his pipe to the ground and dashed at Eve like a madman. He
caught her by the shoulders, and gripped the warm rounded flesh until
the pain made her writhe under his clutch.

"Where are they?" he demanded, with another furious oath. "I'm going
to have 'em. Speak! Speak, you ---- or I'll----"

But Eve was obdurate. Her courage was greater than her strength. He
shook her violently, clutching at her shoulders as though to squeeze
the information he needed out of her. But he got no answer, and, in a
sudden access of demoniacal rage, he swung her round and hurled her
across the room with all his strength. She fell with a thud, and
beyond a low moan lay quite still. Her head had struck the sharp angle
of the coal box.

In a moment the man had passed into the bedroom in search of the
money. Nor did he have to search far. Eve kept her money in one place
always, and he knew where it was. Having possessed himself of the roll
of bills he came out into the kitchen. He looked about him, and his
furious eyes fell upon the prostrate form of his wife. She was lying
beside the coal box in the attitude in which she had fallen. He went
over to her, and stood for a second gazing down at the result of his
handiwork.

But there was neither pity nor remorse in his heart. For the time at
least he hated her. She had dared to defy him, she had twitted him
with his gaming, she had refused him--in favor of Elia. He told
himself all this, a