"Take it back, of course," he answered, striding into the next
room.
"Ah! you shall not!" she cried passionately, running after
him, and seizing his hand; "it is mine, it is mine, you shall
not have it!"
"Hush, Madelon," he said, turning round sharply, "don't make a
disturbance here."
She made no answer, but clung with her whole weight to his arm
as he approached the table. She dragged his hand back, she
held it tight between hers; her face was quite pale, her teeth
set in her childish passion.
"Madelon, let go!" said Graham; "do you hear what I say? Let
go!"
"Give me my money back!" she cried, in a passionate whisper;
"you have no right to take it; it is my own."
"Let go," he repeated, freeing his hand as he spoke. She
seized it again, but it was too late; he had placed the money
on the table, and with the other hand pushed it into the
middle. A horrible pause, while Madelon clung tighter and
tighter, watching breathlessly till she saw the croupier rake
in the whole. All was lost, then; she flung Horace's hand
away, and rushed out of the room.
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