Just so much she understood. Yet she held her ground, unable to speak,
conscious of the torrent of language that swirled against her from
that suffused face opposite, yet not understanding a tenth part of
what she heard.
... "In the name of..."
On the instant the words ceased; but so overpowering was the venom and
malice of the silence that followed that again she was silent,
perceiving that the utmost she could do was to hold her ground. So the
two stood. If the words were horrible to hear, the silence was more
horrible a thousand times; it was as when a man faces the suddenly
opened door of a furnace and sees the white cavern within.
He was the first to speak.
"You had better take care," he said.
III
She scarcely knew how it was that she found herself again in her
chair, with the figure seated opposite.
It seemed that the direct assault was useless. And indeed she was no
longer capable of making it. The nausea had returned, and with it a
sensation of weakness. Her knees still were lax and useless; and her
hand, as she turned it on the chair-arm, shook violently. Yet she had
a curious sense of irresponsibility: there was no longer any
terror--nothing but an overpowering weakness of reaction.
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