"I want you to put that back!"
"I have got to have some money," he maintained sulkily, stowing it still further in his trousers pocket.
"Give me that fifty dollar bill, I say!" went on Miriam, clutching at him.
"No, I will not!" returned her husband, stubbornly, and sought to escape; but she caught him by the arm and pulled him back. He tried to wrench himself away; but for once her strength was superior to his. She was beside herself with sudden anger, with shame, with ignominy, with agony.
"You give that bill to me!" she said through her closed teeth.
"You let me go!" he growled, almost jerking himself out of her grasp. Then followed a struggle that was short, sharp but decisive, inasmuch as he finally succeeded in wrenching himself free from her. And now, turning quickly, he smote her with his clenched hand full in the face.
Miriam staggered back; her eyes opened wide in humiliated astonishment.
"Oh! Laurie!" she cried, not with physical pain, although there upon her face, now red, now white, was a broad, blotched mark—the bruise that the brute had left there.
He made a movement to go; but again she was in time to prevent him; for quick as a flash she had darted to the chiffonier, opened the top drawer and drawn forth a weapon.
"Stop!" she cried in a hard voice. "Don't you dare to leave this room with that money!"