“Not in here,” she said passionately. “I won’t have it. He mustn’t come in here.”
“He must come in if I say so,” said Ted. The colour had left his face. I had seen him angry before now, but never so angry as this.
“No,” said Essie, “he must not.”
She came and stood before her husband.
“Haven’t I been a good wife to you these five years past,” she said. “Haven’t I done my best to make you happy? Haven’t I obeyed you in everything, everything, everything—till now?”
He stared at her open-mouthed. She had never opposed him before.
She fell on her knees before him, and clasped his feet with her bleeding hands.
“If you love me,” she said, “send him away. I refuse to see him.”
“You are hysterical,” said Ted, “or else you’re stark staring mad. I’ve spoilt you and given way to you till you think you can make any kind of fool of me. Get up at once, and cease this play acting, and come into the hall.”