"We'll see about that," replied Dan. "'Ere, you get out," he went on, addressing the woman as he hauled her up by the shoulders. "You get out; we're goin' to be comf'table together, us two an' 'im. Out ye go!" He thrust her toward the door and opened it. "I'm sick o' foolin' about," he added in an angry undertone; "quick's the word."
"O no, Dan—don't," the woman pleaded, whispering on the landing. "Not that way! Not again! I'll get it from him easy in a minute! Don't do it, Dan!"
"Shut yer mouth! I ain't askin' you. You shove off a bit."
"Don't, Dan!"
But the door was shut.
"I tell ye I won'avanother!" came Marr's voice from within.
The woman went down the stairs, her gross face drawn as though she wept, though her eyes were dry. At the door she looked back with something like a shudder, and then turned her steps down the street.
The two partners in Viney and Marr were separated indeed; but now it was by something more than half a mile of streets.