“I shan’t marry him!” Lilian Rosenberg said with provoking coolness.  “Whoever thinks I want to marry him?”

“He does—­I do!” Hamar shouted—­his voice rising to a scream.  “You’ve hoodwinked me long enough—­you hoodwink me no longer.  You’ve encouraged him from the first—­made eyes at him every time you’ve seen him—­taken advantage of my absence to prowl about the passages to waylay him—­had him round to your rooms and visited him in his.  You’ve no sense of shame or honour—­you’ve broken your promises to me—­you’re a liar!”

“Anything else Mr. Hamar!” Lilian Rosenberg said, her eyes glittering.  “When you’ve quite finished, perhaps—­you’ll kindly go and leave me in peace.”

“Go!  Leave you in peace!” Hamar shouted.  “Damn you, curse your impertinence!  Go!  I’ll not budge an inch till I wring from you an oath—­a solemn binding oath, that you’ll break off your engagement with Kelson at once.”

“Really, Mr. Hamar!” Lilian Rosenberg said, “I cannot put up with quite so much noise.  Will you go, or shall I ring for the porter to turn you out?”

She moved in the direction of the bell as she spoke, but before she could touch it Hamar had intercepted her.

“Stop this foolery!” he said catching hold of her wrist, “I’m in grim earnest—­the lives of all three of us are at stake—­jeopardized through you—­through your infernal greed and selfishness.  Do you hear!”

“Please let go my wrist,” she said quietly.

“I won’t!” he shouted.  “I’ll squeeze, crush it, break it!  Break you, too, unless you swear to break off your marriage!”

“I’ll swear nothing,” Lilian Rosenberg said faintly.  “You’re a brute.  Let me go or I’ll cry for help.”

She screamed, but before she could repeat the scream, Hamar had her by the throat—­and then blind with passion and before he fully realized what he was about, he had shaken her to and fro—­like a terrier shakes a rat—­and had dashed her on the floor.

For some minutes he stood rocking with passion, and then, his eyes falling on the inanimate form at his feet, he gave a great gasping cry and bent over it.

“God in Heaven!” he ejaculated, “she’s dead!  I’ve killed her!”

He was still bending over her—­still feeling her lifeless pulse, still trying to resuscitate her—­feebly wondering how he had killed her, feverishly debating the best course to pursue—­when Curtis and Kelson burst in on him.

At the sight of Lilian Rosenberg’s lifeless body both men started back.  “Great God!  Hamar!” Curtis gasped.  “What have you done to her?”

“Nothing!” Hamar said, turning a ghastly face to them.  “I—­I found her like this!”

“Liar!” Kelson shouted beside himself with fury.  “Liar!  We heard her scream.  Look at your hands—­there’s blood on them!  You’ve killed her!”

Before Curtis could stop him he sprang at Hamar, and the next moment both men were rolling on the floor.