“Get out of here, I say!” cried Bertie, “I mean it now.”
“I won't! Let me be!” exclaimed the girl.
“Hurrah!” shouted the others, crowding behind them. Young Holliday was dancing about, waving a bottle and yelling like a maniac, “Go it, Bertie! Give it to him, Belle!”
“This is the end of it!” cried Bertie. “I'm through with you. And you get out of here!”
“I won't! I won't!” screamed the girl again and again. “Help!” And she flung one arm about his neck and caught at the doorway.
But he tore her loose and dragged her bodily across the entrance hall. “Out with you!” he exclaimed. “And don't ever let me see your face again!”
“Bertie! Bertie!” she protested.
“I mean it!” he said. “Here Jack! Open the door for me.”
“Bertie! No!” shrieked the girl; but then with a sudden effort he half threw her out into the darkness. There was a brief altercation outside, and then he sprang back, and flung to the heavy door, and bolted it fast.
“Now, by God!” he said, “you'll stay out.”