Miranda's chamber. "She is not there, Moll; you can't see her. Are you
crazy? You'd frighten the poor girl out of her senses."

"She's in there. I'm going in to speak with her. Yes I shall, Philip,
and you needn't stop me."

"Keep back. Keep quiet, can't you?"

"No. Don't hold me, Philip Searle. Keep your hands off me, if you know
what's good for you."

She brushed past him, and laid her hand upon the door-knob; but he
seized her violently by the arm and pulled her back. The action hurt her
wrist, and she was boiling with rage in a second. With her clenched
fist, she struck him straight in the face repeatedly, while with every
blow, she screamed out an imprecation.

"Keep quiet, you hag! Keep quiet, confound you!" said the infuriated
man. "Won't you? Take that!" and he planted his fist upon her mouth.

The woman, through her tears and sobs, howled at him curse upon curse.
With one hand upon her throat, he essayed to choke her utterance, and
thus they scuffled about the room.

"I'll cut you, Philip; I will, by ----"

Her hand, in fact, was fumbling about her pocket, and she drew forth a
small knife and thrust it into his shoulder. They were near the table,
over which Philip had thrust her down. He was wild with rage and the
brandy he had drank. His right hand instinctively grasped the heavy