Once more he strove to shake her off.
Not succeeding in this, he struck her in the face, and tore her garments from her back.
He struck her several blows after this, and finally succeeded in flinging her from him.
Then with the howl of a wild beast he rushed towards the door: in doing so the side of his body came in contact with a small dressing-table, upon which was a looking-glass.
The table was upset, one of its legs was broken, and the plate of the glass was shivered into fragments.
Then Bristow rushed out of the house.
His wife sat on the side of the bed, sobbing convulsively.
Thus ended a scene—the accumulated horrors of which we have purposely avoided giving in all their full detail.
Bruised and bleeding from the effects of the blows inflicted by her husband, the wretched woman cried as if her heart was about to break.
Very soon after Bristow’s departure Bessie Dalton, upon her return from the factory, let herself in with the latch-key. As she entered the passage she heard sobs and sighs proceeding from the back parlour.