"You know that you are lying. Now get out of this room—and stay out of it, do you hear?"
"Yes, I hear," came the answer that was half a sob.
"And make up your mind to leave this place to-morrow, or I'll put you out, if I have to throw you head foremost into the street."
She took a step backward, shook her head and the mass of tangled red hair fell from its coil and dropped on her shoulders. Her eyes were watching him now with dumb passionate yearning.
"Get out!" he ordered brutally.
A moment's silence and a low laugh was her answer.
"Why do you hate me?" she asked the question with a note of triumph.
"I don't," he replied with a sneer.
"Then you're afraid of me!"
"Afraid of you?"