“You will?” said he; “we will see. This house is mine,” and he drew out his pistol with which to frighten me.
“Richard,” said I, hoping to restore him to calmness, “put up that pistol. You cannot, dare not use it.”
“Dare not!” he exclaimed, coming up to me, his hot breath smelling of wine; “I will show you if I dare not!”
I was alarmed as he suddenly cocked the weapon. What might he not do in his drunken excitement?
“She is a coward, Dick,” said the lady. “Don’t trouble yourself about her,” and then turning to me and stamping her foot, “How dare you say you are his wife!” she exclaimed. “Go out from here!”
I shook from head to foot, but did not leave.
“Come, Dick, give me the pistol,” said the lady; “You don’t know what you might do with it.”
“Don’t meddle with me,” said he, as she attempted to wrest it from his grasp. “Why does that girl stand glowering at me?”
“O Richard,” I sobbed, “my heart is ready to burst! Don’t act so; remember Herbert!”
“Remember Herbert!” he muttered; “I do remember him. You killed him with your pranks, and now you would accuse me. Go, leave my house, or I will compel you.”