"Where is he? I say," he snarled.
"I told you, father," she said. "Why—what is the matter? What do you want? Why are you so excited?"
"You know well enough!" he cried. "Don't stand there and tell me that you don't know all or more than I do. Show him to me. I want to meet the white-livered atheistic agent of hell. And when I do meet him he'll never sneak into another respectable home like he did in mine. Do you know what is being said? Do you know what is spreading from county to county up home?"
"I can imagine," Tilly sighed. She felt faint. The objects in the room, the glaring fanatic, the sunny windows were swinging around her. She pulled herself together. She told herself she must be strong. Unless she conquered her weakness and held taut her wits her husband would be killed. What was to be done? Suddenly an idea came. She told herself that it might work. There was nothing else to do, and at any cost she must prevent the meeting of the two men. Another moment and the madman might be driving away in search for his victim.
"Father," she began, and she advanced to him and started to lay her hand on his arm, but he drew back and snarled like an infuriated beast.
"Did you know about that strumpet, Liz Trott, before you married her son?" he asked.
"No, father, I did not; but you don't understand John's position—"
"Understand the devil and all his imps! He'll understand me when I meet him; that will be enough."
"Father, sit down, please. John is away out in the country and won't be home for a long time. Please, please don't raise a row here and stir up this whole town. John is suffering enough without that. Now listen to me. You know I have some rights. I am a married woman now, and I've got a heart and soul in me. I've got the right as an innocent woman not to be dragged into a scandal like this. If you shot John in your present fury I'd have to be held as a witness, and you'd be put in jail. You are a religious man. Surely you ought to know that God would not forgive you for treating your own child as you are about to treat me. I am willing to go home with you right away—this minute! The cab is waiting, and we could catch the twelve-o'clock train. Surely you regretted that other shooting affair you had, and are grateful to God for sparing you from the worst. I'll pack up and go. It won't take me long."
Slowly and limply he sank into a chair. His soot-streaked hands clutched his knees and he groaned. She saw him shake his frowsy head and a tremor went through him. He was being twisted between the hands of two forces. He was silent for several minutes, save for his loud breathing. Glancing through the window, Tilly saw that the negro had approached the gate. She went to the window and leaned out.