"You!" she cried, "how dare you! Go! Go at once! And if you dare come
here again or attempt to molest me in any way, I'll prosecute you!"
Hamar, dumbfounded at such an exhibition of wrath, slunk out of the
room without uttering a syllable.
"The vixen," he muttered as soon as he found himself in the street. "A
thousand cats in one! Treated me like mud. Jerusalem! I'll pay her
out. And I'll lose no time about it either. She'll look differently at
me next time we meet."
He hurried back to Cockspur Street and going into the laboratory,
threw himself into a chair and--thought.
That same evening at nine-thirty, in the interval between her first
and second "going on," Gladys hastened to her dressing-room, and was
preparing to partake of the light refreshments she had ordered,
when--to her horror--she perceived crawling towards her, across the
floor, a huge cockroach--a hideous black thing with spidery legs and
long antennae that it waved, to and fro, in the air, as it advanced.
It was at least double the size of any Gladys had hitherto seen, and
her feelings can best be appreciated by those who fear such
things--her blood ran cold, her flesh crawled, she sat glued to her
chair, terrified to move, lest it should run after her. She screamed,
and her dresser, startled out of her senses, came flying into the
room.
"What is it, madam? What is it?" she cried.
Gladys pointed at the floor.
"Kill it!" she shrieked.
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