“I don’t choose to say anything. You have heard all he has said, and can judge for yourself. You have brought this scandal upon yourself; but it was not done without a cause. I decline to argue the question with you.”
“Insolent strumpet!” exclaimed the doctor, striking his wife on the side of the head. “Hence—get out of this house at once.”
“Hold hard!” cried Bill, stepping between the enraged husband and his ill-used wife. “Hit a woman! You are a coward and a bully. If you want to hit anyone pitch into me.”
“Stand out of my way—you dirty lying thief,” cried Bourne.
“Look here, if you give me any more of your cheek,” said the gipsy, “or attempt to lay hands on this lady I’ll smash you—that’s what I’ll do with you, and no flies.”
“You audacious miscreant!” cried Bourne, almost beside himself with rage, and striking the gipsy over the head with his walking stick.
Bill at once let out with his right and left in rapid succession, hitting the doctor some terrible blows in the face, which were delivered direct from the shoulder. Bourne was so taken aback by the suddenness and vigour of the attack that he had not time to recover himself.
“I’ll make you smart for this,” he said, presently. “You can’t escape me, you scoundrel. I’ve two officers below.” And as he uttered these words he rushed towards the door, calling out for assistance at the same time.
The gipsy intercepted his passage, and levelled him to the floor with one powerful blow from his clenched fist.
In falling the doctor’s head came in contact with the fender, and he lay on the hearthrug, speechless and senseless.