“Well,” he said again, “why don’t you talk?” “I—have nothing to say,” she stammered, “we haven’t done anything.” And then suddenly the storm broke. He gave a little scream like a wild animal, and, with one push of the hand, the table went over, crashing to the ground. The crockery lay in shattered pieces on the blue carpet. Janet crouched back against the wall, but he came slowly round the table towards her. His back was bent a little and his head stretched forward like an animal about to spring. She was crying bitterly, with her hands pressed in front of her face. “Please, father,” she said, “I haven’t done anything—I didn’t know—I haven’t done anything.” She said it again and again between her tears. Morelli came over to her. “There was a man,” he said between his teeth, “a man whom I saw this morning, and he said things. Oh! if I had him here!” He laughed. “I would kill him, here, with my hands. But you see, you shall never speak to him again, you don’t go near him.” He spoke with passion. She did not answer. He shook her shoulder. “Well, speak, can’t you?” He took her arm and twisted it, and then, apparently maddened by her immobility and her tears, he struck her with his hand across the face. He let her sink to the floor in a heap, then for a moment he looked down on her. There was absolute silence in the room, a shaft of light fell through the window, caught a gleaming broken saucer on the floor, lighted the red tiles and sparkled against the farther wall. Janet was sobbing very quietly, crouching on the floor with her head in her hands. He looked at her for a moment and then crept silently from the room. The stillness and peace and the twittering of a bird at the window brought her to her senses. It had happened so often before that it did not take her long to recover. She got up from her knees and wiped her eyes; she pushed back her hair and put the pins in carefully. Then she felt her cheek where he had struck her. It always happened like that, suddenly, for no reason at all. She knew that it was due to no bitter feeling against herself. Anything that came in his way at the time would suffer, as Miss Minns had learnt. Doubtless she was up in her room now with her door locked.