His face darkened.
“This is Uncle Isaac!” he said between his teeth. “The influence of that man is diabolical! All my life I have been thwarted by aunts and uncles. He shall answer to me—Guiseppi Dempsi!”
He flung out of his chair, took two strides toward the door, when she caught his arms desperately.
“Let me go,” he stormed.
“If you leave this room I will telephone for the police!”
The tension relaxed.
“For me—the police for me!” He covered his face in his hands and his shoulders heaved convulsively. Diana felt no regrets.
“And she of whom I dreamt threatens me. Let me die!”
Diana let him. At the end of three minutes he was still alive.
“Mr. Dempsi, dry your eyes.”