Louise calmed herself:
"Eduard," she said, quietly, "leave the room."
"No."
"Once more, Eduard, leave the room, or I'll send one of the men to Papa. If you want to make a scandal, very well, do; but you'll be the chief sufferer."
He suddenly remembered the Hague, his career . . .
"Go out of the room, Eduard."
"He's hurt me!" moaned Emilie. "I've got a pain, here . . ."
She lay like a dead thing in her sister's arms.
"Eduard, go out of the room."
"I'll go," he said. "But I shall stay until the dinner is over . . ."
He went away.
"The wretch! The wretch!" moaned Emilie.
"He's bruised my breast. Lucky that he did: now I can get a divorce, can't I, Louise? . . . Louise, do you know the law?"
"No, my darling, but Papa will tell you all about it. But keep calm, keep calm . . ."
"Where has he gone?"
"If you don't mind being left alone, I'll go and see . . ."
"No, stay with me, stay with me . . ."
There was a knock at the door.
"Who's there?"
