“If he was here I wouldn’t be having to do this,” she snapped.
“No,” said Tish. “The poor fool must like to be deceived. It’s my experience that the weaker a man is the more he likes to have something helpless around him. It makes him feel strong and protective.”
Well, Will made a noise at that, and Emmie suddenly threw up her head and listened.
“Who’s out there?” she said in a dreadful voice.
“Only Will and two or three policemen and a few neighbors,” Tish told her calmly. “They’re all glad you are well again, and can take your place in the——”
But at that Emmie simply leaped at her, and the next moment Will Hartford was inside, pulling her off our poor Tish and holding her so her blows would do no damage. And then he put his arms around her and glared at Tish as if she had been the one to blame.
“Leave!” he said. “Begone! To what brutality you have submitted my poor wife I have yet to learn. But the law is not through. Not yet. Nor am I.”
But Tish only stared at him with a faint and sardonic smile.
“Oh, yes, you are,” she told him. “You’re through. You’re as through as you can be. I tried to save you, but you wouldn’t be saved.”
And with that didn’t Emmie suddenly cry out, “Oh, my poor legs! There’s no feeling in them! It’s come again.”