He quivered when Lawrence touched him.
"Go away!" he said, "you mustn't come here.... I'll get them yet--I tell
you I'll get them yet--I tell you I'll get them--Let them dare...
Chiens... Chiens..." He jerked his rifle away from the window and
began, with trembling fingers, to load it again.
Lawrence gripped his arm. "When I did that," he said, "it felt as though
there wasn't an arm there at all, but just a bone which I could break if
I pressed a bit harder."
"Come away!" he said. "You damn fool--don't you see that it's hopeless?"
"And I'd always been so respectful to him...." he added in parenthesis.
Wilderling hissed at him, saying no words, just drawing in his breath.
"I've got two of them," he whispered suddenly. "I'll get them all."
Then a bullet crashed through the window, burying itself in the opposite
wall.
After that things happened so quickly that it was impossible to say in
what order they occurred. There was suddenly a tremendous noise in the
flat.
"It was just as though the whole place was going to tumble about our
ears. All the pots and bottles began to jump about, and then another
bullet came through, landed on the dressing-table, and smashed
everything.
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