Sammamon gave no heed,—he was busy inscribing on his cuff the inventory of the jewelry.
"Kill you? That's too good for the likes of you," Bofinger cried, starting forward, "I'll fix you. Out on the street you go where you belong! Get out of here, get out of this house at once!"
"On the streets? To-night?" she cried in terror. "Without a cent?"
"Go out and earn it, the way you're fit for!" he said brutally. Then with an oath he extended his hand and commanded:
"Get out of those clothes."
"Bofinger," she cried in terror, "have mercy!"
"Take it off!" he said with an ugly look. "Not a rag belongs to you. Every stitch you have ought to go towards paying what you swindled me out of!"
She dropped on her knees, stretching out her hands.
"Not like that, Alonzo, not like that!"
"Take it off!" he cried in a fury, and as she made no move he seized the collar in his hands and tore it open. Sheila fell forward. On the bare neck flashed a necklace of small diamonds, which she had bought with the money from Sammamon.