And they say it's you he fought with last night.
The marks of it are on your face"-- her voice rose to a scream--"Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!" "You wicked--thing!" cried Nance, pale to the lips.
"You--you--you!" foamed Julie.

"You're as bad as he is.

Because my man tried to save you from that--murderer--" "Oh, you--wicked!--You're crazy," cried Nance, rushing at her as though to make an end of her.
And Julie, mad with the strain of the night's anxieties and their abrupt and terrible ending, uncurled her claws and struck at her with a snarl--tore off her sun-bonnet, and would have ripped up her face, if Gard had not flung his arms round her from the back and dragged her screaming and kicking towards her own door.
Mrs.Hamon had come running out at sound of the fray.

Gard whirled the mad woman into her own house and Mrs.Hamon followed her and closed the door.
Gard turned to look for Nance.
She was nervously trying to tie on her sun-bonnet by one string.
"Nance, dear," he said, "you don't believe I had anything to do with this ?" "Oh no, no! I'm sure you hadn't.

But--" "But ?" he asked, looking down into the pale face and bright anxious eyes.
"Oh, they may say you did it.