Listen! There was someone at the door now. Through the drumming of the rain she could hear the door-knob rattling. She sprang up and threw her weight against the barricading washstand.
"Who's there?" she cried.
"Mrs. Jessop," came in muffled tones.
"I won't let you in. Go away."
"You won't, eh? What are you afraid of? If I was a man you'd let me in fast enough."
"No, I shouldn't. You're a wicked woman to say so."
"Very well, then. If you won't let me in, come close to the door. Put your ear to the crack so's you can hear what I say. Can you hear?"
"Y—yes."
"Now listen. You're nothing but a trollop, and I won't have you in this house another day. There's a train goes through here to the city at five in the morning. You'll go on that, d'you hear? You'll get up quietly and dress without letting on to the other girls. I'll give you your breakfast and a month's wages, and you'll go on that train, see? You'll leave us in peace as we were before you came. Get your trunk packed ready to go. I'll have Davy take it to the station on the wheelbarrow. Don't you dare to leave your room before I call you at half-past three. I'm going to watch your door from my room and if you come out of it and I lay my hands on you, God's my witness, I'll spoil your looks for you. I've got a temper when it's roused and I've stood about all I can from you!"
Delight wrung her hands in the dark.
"Oh, please, mayn't I see Jimmy before I go? Him and me have quarrelled and I'd like to make it up."
Mrs. Jessop struck the panel a blow with her clenched hand.
