[WALTER _remains motionless and silent._ HECTOR. [_In muffled tones, scarcely able to speak._] You! It's true what this woman says? BETTY. [_Contemptuously._] This woman! Don't be so melodramatic! Have you forgotten my name? HECTOR. [_Turning fiercely to her, roaring madly._] Silence, Jezebel! [_She shrinks back, in alarm, towards the fire._] Your name! Wait a bit, I'll tell you! [_He takes a step towards her--she crouches in terror against the wall._] You shall hear what your name is! Just now I'm dealing with _him._ [_He swings round to_ WALTER.] You there, you skunk and thief! You, you lying hound! I was your best friend. So you've taken my wife, have you? And now mean to go off and marry this girl. That's it? Oh, it's so simple! Here--come here--sit down. Sit down, I tell you. Here, in this chair. Shall I have to drag you to it? I want to keep my hands off you. Here. [WALTER _has moved slowly towards him._ HECTOR _has banged down a chair behind the centre table,_ WALTER _sits in it_--HECTOR _speaks over his shoulder to_ BETTY.] And you--fetch pen and ink and paper-- BETTY. [_In abject panic._] Hector-- HECTOR. [_Turning fiercely and scowling at her._] If you speak to me I'll brain you too. Just you go in there and fetch the things. D'you hear? Go. [_She moves into the other room._ HECTOR _swings round to_ WALTER.] As for you, you're a scoundrel. A rogue, a thief, a liar, a traitor. Of the very worst kind, the blackest. Not an ordinary case of a husband and wife--I trusted you--you were my best friend. You spawn, you thing of the gutter, you foul-hearted, damnable slug! [BETTY _comes back, dragging her feet, carrying paper and envelopes and a stylograph--she puts them on the table._ HECTOR. Not that stylograph--that's mine--his dirty hands shan't touch it--I could never use it again. Fetch _your_ pen--yours--you belong to him, don't you? Go in and fetch it. D'you hear? [BETTY _goes into the inner room again._ HECTOR. My wife. And you the man I've done more for than for any one else in the world. The man I cared for, you low dog. Used my house--came here because it was dull at the Club--and took my wife? I don't know why I don't kill you. I've the right. But I won't. You shall pay for it, my fine fellow--you are going to pay--now. [BETTY _brings a pen and an inkstand; she places them on the table;_ HECTOR _seizes them and pushes them in front of_ WALTER. BETTY _slinks to the other side of the room, and stands by the sofa._ HECTOR. [_To_ WALTER.] Now you write. You hear? You write what I dictate. Word for word. What's the old brute's name? WALTER. Whose? HECTOR. Whose! Her father, the sealing-wax man, old Gillingham? WALTER. [_Staring._] Gillingham? HECTOR. Gillingham. Yes. What is it? WALTER. You want me to write to him? HECTOR. [_Nodding._] To him. Who else? A confession? I've had that. His name? WALTER. [_Dropping the pen and half rising._] I won't--