Gorlois flushed to the temples in this wind of passion. The girl looked splendid to him in her great anger, her head thrown back and her eyes steady on him as stars. The scorn of her beauty leapt over him like crimson light, and he was more a sensation than a man. He had a great thirst in him to grip her with his hands, to bend her straight body as he would bend a bow, to strangle up the scorn in her throat with his own breath. He went near her, stooping and staring in her face. [Illustration: "A SUDDEN MADNESS WHIRLED GORLOIS AWAY"] "Igraine." "Mark my words." "You golden shrew, you temptation of tempers--" "Hold off--" "By God! I'll tame you, don't doubt me." Igraine, very watchful, slipped past him suddenly like light, and walked for the house with a sweeping air that bade him keep his distance. Coming to the door of the house, she tried it but found the lock shot. The red badge of a new anger showed upon either cheek. She turned on Gorlois; her eyes blazed out at him. "A pretty trick!" "What now, madame?" "You had this door locked." "Never." "You lie in your throat." "Radamanth--" "Open it." "I have no key." Igraine's figure seemed to dilate and grow taller, and her eyes shone well-nigh as bright in colour as her hair. "Obey me." "Not if I had the key." "Obey me." "I will be master before the sun is at noon." "You dog!" A sudden madness whirled Gorlois away. He went red from the neck, clutched at Igraine's wrist and held it. For a moment they stood rigid. The girl could not shake him off although he had but one hand to hold her. His breath was hot upon her face as he pressed her back against the wall, and held her there till his lips touched her neck. Igraine, breathing fast and straining from him with all her strength, set a hand on his face and thrust him away. She twisted her wrist free, and slipped from between him and the wall. Then the door opened, and Radamanth stood by them. Igraine slipped away with a white face, and running above to her chamber threw herself down on the bed, and cried for Pelleas. She heard Gorlois stride through the house, heard the gate crash as he went out into the street. Shame and loneliness were on her like despair, and she was weak and shaken after her anger, and very hungry for love and comfort. The world seemed a dull blank about her, cold, irresponsive, and grey as a November evening. Every hand seemed against her. Even Radamanth, the man of serious years, had turned the key upon her, more kind to Gorlois than herself. Her thoughts were very bitter as she lay and brooded over it all. Presently she heard some one coming up the stairs. Darting to the door, she bolted it, and went back to the bed, while a hand rapped out a somewhat diffident summons, and Radamanth's voice came in to her. "My dear niece," it said. Igraine made no answer. "My dear niece, let me have a word with you." Still no answer. Radamanth tried the door and found it fastened. "Gorlois is gone," he said.