"Leave the curtain alone, I tell you," he said, "I don't care if it is up. I don't care about you either—nor you," looking at his wife. "I don't know you. I must have sleep—sleep—sleep."
Deep down in her soul Shirley knew that she should not hear all this, and she would have fled if she had not promised Miriam not to leave her. Suddenly she wheeled upon Stevens as if she and not Miriam were the mistress of the house, exclaiming peremptorily:—
"Stevens, leave the room!"
Stevens obeyed her as he would his mistress, and left the room post haste.
Miriam now went over to the girl.
"You're not going to leave me!" she exclaimed, clinging to her. "You and Laurie are the only friends I have—you must stay here with Laurie and me."
Shirley saw the agony in her face and patted her affectionately as she promised:—
"There, there, Miriam, dear, of course I shall stay." And Miriam, at once reassured, darted back to her husband, and cried:—
"Laurie, dear," kissing him and pushing the hair back from his forehead, "so tired—so tired."
But Challoner, a wolf now and not a man, jerked away from her, and answered:—