Both the girls were in that condition which is neither sleep nor wakefulness when one of the doors quietly opened and Adolph and Tansy entered. The former, after rapidly glancing at both the beds, locked the door, pocketed the key, went to the nearest candelabrum and extinguished all the candles it contained.
Marie, holding her sister’s hand, slipped out of bed.
“Leave those other candles alone,” she commanded.
“We have come for our reward,” said Adolph, thickly.
Tansy seated himself on the table and made himself steady by placing his hands on the table on either side of him; even with this support he swayed a little. Alys had also risen from the bed; she now stood by her sister’s side.
“What do you want?” asked Marie.
“Well, aren’t you going to rest?” asked Adolph. “Let me help you to undress.”
But instead of approaching Marie, he lurched towards the younger sister and placed a cruel, beautiful hand upon her arm. Alys winced as though her head had been struck with a whip. For a moment, Marie hesitated: then her fist shot out and caught Adolph between the eyes. He staggered and fell, but on the instant rose to his feet.
“Come on, Tansy,” he called, mad with drink and lust; “it’s going to be a fight—it’s got to be one.”
Tansy, abandoning the support of the table, rushed blindly on to the two girls, his bestial face alive with cruelty. Alys, sick and faint with horror, fell to the floor.