I lost all fear of her: I stepped close up to the place at which she was standing; I cried out: “Of what, in God’s name, do you accuse your sister?”
She answered: “I accuse her of poisoning Philip Dunboyne.”
I ran out of the room; I rushed headlong down the stairs. The doctor heard me, and came running into the hall. I caught hold of him like a madwoman. “Euneece!” My breath was gone; I could only say: “Euneece!”
He dragged me into the dining-room. There was wine on the side-board, which he had ordered medically for Philip. He forced me to drink some of it. It ran through me like fire; it helped me to speak. “Now tell me,” he said, “what has she done to Eunice?”
“She brings a horrible accusation against her,” I answered.
“What is the accusation?” I told him.
He looked me through and through. “Take care!” he said. “No hysterics, no exaggeration. You may lead to dreadful consequences if you are not sure of yourself. If it’s really true, say it again.” I said it again—quietly this time.
His face startled me; it was white with rage. He snatched his hat off the hall table.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“My duty.” He was out of the house before I could speak to him again.