"That's a lie," said Henry, his cheeks flaming. Stepping forward, "And you know it is. Where is Christina? What have you done with her? I'll have the police here if you don't tell me."
Mrs. Tenssen thrust her head forward, producing an extraordinary evil expression with her white powdered face, her heavy black costume and her hanging podgy fingers. "Call me a liar, do you? That's a nice, pretty thing to call a lady, but I suppose it's about as much manners as you have got. He's always talking about the police, my dear," turning round to Mrs. Armstrong. "It's a mania he's got. Although what good they're going to do him I'm sure I don't know. And a pretty thing for Christina to be dragged into the courts. He's mad, my dear. That's all there is about it."
"I'm not mad," said Henry, "as you'll find out one day. You're trying to do something horrible to Christina, but I'll prevent it if it kills me."
"And let me tell you," said Mrs. Tenssen, standing now, her arms akimbo, "that if you set your foot inside that door again or bring your ugly, dirty face inside this room I'll whip you out of it. I will indeed, and you can have as many of your bloody police in as you like to help you. All the police force if you care to. But I'll tell you straight," here her voice rose suddenly into a violent scream, "that I will bloody well scratch the skin off your face if you poke it in here again . . . and now get out or I'll make you."
Here I regret to say Henry's temper, never as tightly in control as it should be, forsook him.
"And I tell you," he shouted back, "that if you hurt a hair of Christina's head I'll have you imprisoned for life and tortured too if I can. And I'll come here just as often as I like until I'm sure of her safety. You be careful what you do. . . . You'd better look out."
He banged the door behind him and was stumbling down the dark stairs.