lamed out, striding up
and down. "Steptoe's been putting that into your head. He's strong on
the sentimental stuff. You and he are in a conspiracy against me.
That's what it is. It's a conspiracy. He's got something up his
sleeve--I don't know what--and he's using you as his tool. But you
don't come it over me. I'm wise, I am. I'm a fool too. I know it well
enough. But I'm not such a fool as to----"

She was frightened. He was going "off the hooks." She knew the signs
of it. This rapid speech, one word leading to another, had always been
her mother's first sign of super-excitement, until it ended in a
scream. If he were to scream she would be more terrified than she had
ever been in her life. She had never heard a man scream; but then she
had never seen a man grow hysterical.

His utterance was the more clear-cut and distinct the faster it
became.

"I know what it is. Steptoe thinks I'm going insane, and he's made you
think so too. That's why you want to get away. You're afraid of me.
Well, I don't wonder at it; but you're not going. See? You're not
going. You'll go when I send you; but you'll not go before. See? I've
married you, haven't I? When all is said and done you're my wife. My
wife!" He laughed, between gritted teeth. "My wife! That's my wife!"
He pointed at her. "Rashleigh Allerton who thought so much of himself
has married _that_--and she's trying to do the generous by him----"

Going up to him timidly, she laid her hand on his arm. "Say, mister,
would you mind countin' ten?"

The appeal took him so much by surprise that, both in his
speech and in his walk, he stopped abruptly. She began to
count, slowly, and marking time with her forefinger.
"One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten."

He stared at her as if it was she who had gone "off the hooks." "What
do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothin'. Now you can begin again."

"Begin what?"

"What you was--what you were sayin'."

"What I was saying?" He rubbed his hand across his forehead, which was
wet with cold perspiration. "Well, what was I saying?"

He was not only dazed, but a pallor stole over his skin, the more
ghastly in contrast with his black hair and his scarlet
dressing-gown.

"Isn't there no place you can lay down? I always laid momma down after
a spell of this kind. It did her good to sleep and she always slept."

He said, absently: "There's a couch in the library. I can't go back to
bed."

"No, you don't want to go