"I'm not going home. You've struck me . . . and I'm placing myself under my father's protection. I don't know the law, but I'm not going to be struck by you."
"If you don't come . . . I'll make you, I'll thrash you to the door."
She gave a contemptuous laugh:
"You're not a man," she said. "You're a cowardly brute!"
He raved as though beside himself. He cursed and foamed at the mouth. Louise stared at him in dismay; hardly knew him, now that he had lost all his veneer of manner, all his German, would-be correct politeness.
"Home you go!" he roared again, pointing to the door with his finger.
"I am not going."
He flew at her, seized her by her frail shoulders, shook her, his mouth distorted by passion, his eyes starting out of his head, like a madman's. She writhed herself free, struck him full in the face. He hit her back.
"Eduard! Emilie!" screamed Louise.
Her anger gave her strength. She threw herself upon her brother-in-law, strong in her indignation, pushed him away from his wife.
"Go away!" she cried aloud, clasping Emilie in her arms. "Go away! Out of the room!"
"I want my wife back!"
