The first of the disturbing sounds was Madame's voice, far-off but ringing strong. Then a door opened--it must have been the dining-room door; not the wide one that opened into the great front hall, but the other, at the farther end of the 'back parlour.' There was a brief lull. A voice could be heard, though--a man's voice, low-pitched, deprecatory. Then Madame's again. And stranger noises. The man's voice cried out in quick protest; there was a rustle and then a crash like breaking china. The Senator, hurrying a little, yet with a sort of dignity, walked out into the hall. Henry could see him, first between the portières as he left the room, then as he passed the hall door. There was a rush and a torrent of passionately angry words from the other room. An object--it appeared to be a paper weight or ornament--came hurtling out into the hall. The Senator, who had apparently gone to the closet by the door for his hat and stick--for he came back into the hall with them--stepped back just in time to avoid being struck. The object fell on the stair, landing with the sound of solid metal. 'You come back here!' Madame's voice. 'I will not come back until you have had time to return to your senses,' replied the Senator. He looked very small. He was always stilted in speech; Humphrey had said that he talked like the _Congressional Record_. 'This is a disgraceful scene. If you have the slightest regard for my good name or your own you will at least make an effort to compose yourself. Some one might be at the door at this moment. You are a violent, ungoverned woman, and I am ashamed of you.' 'And you'--she was almost screaming now--'are the man who was glad to marry me.' He ignored this. 'If any one asks for me, I shall be at the Sunbury Club.' 'Going to drink again, are you?' 'I think not.' 'If you do, you needn't come back. Do you hear? You needn't come back!' He turned, and with a sort of strut went out the front door. She started to follow. She did come as far as the portières. Henry had a glimpse of her, her face red and distorted. She turned back then, and seemed to be picking up the room. He could hear sniffing and actually snorting as she moved about. There was a brief silence. Then she crossed the hall, a big imposing person--even in her tantrums she had presence--and went up the stairs, pausing on the landing to pick up the object she had thrown. Her solid footfalls died out on the thick carpets of the upper hall. A door opened, and slammed faintly shut. Silence again. Henry found that he was clutching the arms of the chair. 'I must relax,' he thought vacantly; and drew a slow deep breath, as he had been taught in a gymnasium class at the Y.M.C.A. He brushed a hand across his eyes. Now that it was over, his temples were pounding hotly, his nerves aquiver.