Murgatroyd looked at her, but he did not answer. Her grasp became a clutch as she repeated:—
"What have you got to say to me? Speak!"
Murgatroyd was imperturbable.
Miriam, aghast at his coolness, stared at him; then she began again:—
"You—you—" Her voice failed her, and relaxing her grasp, she clung to the table for support. Shirley ran to her, held her, saying gently:—
"Miriam, dear, you are beside yourself—come, come away!"
But Miriam braced herself and resolutely shook herself free from her friend.
"No," she replied evenly, "I am not going!" and her voice rose as she went on: "Don't let anybody go! What I have to say I want all of you to hear!" And tottering over toward the bench as the spectators pressed tumultuously forward, Peter Broderick among the rest, she exclaimed:—
"Your Honour! Your Honour!"
"What is it, Madam?" asked the justice. And considering that the Court believed that it had to deal with a case of hysteria, the voice was surprisingly little tinged with irritability; but then the learned judge felt that he must make some concession to a woman of Mrs. Challoner's high social standing; and therefore he added politely: "You must be brief."