"Leave her alone?" she said, with a flash of defiance in her look. "It is you who ought to leave her alone! She has cheated you--why should you show temper? Why should you sulk with every one, simply because an Italian organ-grinder has shown you what she thinks of you? Oh, I suppose the heavens must fall, because you've lost your pretty plaything--that made a laughing-stock of you? You don't even know where she is--I can tell you!--wandering along in front of the pavement at Brighton, in a green petticoat and a yellow handkerchief on her head, and singing to a concertina! That's about it, I should think; and very likely the seedy swell is waiting for her in their lodgings--waiting for her to bring the money home!" Lionel rose; he said not a word; but the pallor of his face and the fire in his eyes were terrible to see. Plainly enough she saw them; but she was only half-terrified; she seemed aroused to a sort of whirlwind of passion. "Oh, say it!" she cried. "Why don't you say it? Do you think I don't see it in your eyes? '_I hate you!_'--that's what you want to say; and you haven't the courage--you're a man, and you haven't the courage!" That look did not depart from his face; but he stood in silence for a second, as if considering whether he should speak. His self-control infuriated her all the more. "Do you think I care?" she exclaimed, with panting breath. "Do you think I care whether you hate me or not--whether you go sighing all day after your painted Italian doll? And do you imagine I want to wear this thing--that it is for this I will put up with every kind of insult and neglect? Not I!" She pulled the bit of india-rubber from her finger; she dragged off the engagement-ring and dashed it on the floor in front of his feet--while her eyes sparkled with rage, and the cherry-paste hardly concealed the whiteness of her lips. "Take it--and give it to the organ-grinder!" she called, in the madness of her rage. He did not even look whither the ring had rolled. Without a single word he quite calmly turned and opened the door and passed outside. Nay, he was so considerate as to leave the door open for her; for he knew she would be wanted on the stage directly. He himself went up into the wings--in his gay costume of satin and silk and powdered wig and ruffles.