Mademoiselle Stangerson came in.
What passed must have taken place very quickly.

Mademoiselle tried to call for help; but the man had seized her by the throat.

Her hand had sought and grasped the revolver which she had been keeping in the drawer of her night-table, since she had come to fear the threats of her pursuer.

The murderer was about to strike her on the head with the mutton-bone--a terrible weapon in the hands of a Larsan or Ballmeyer; but she fired in time, and the shot wounded the hand that held the weapon.

The bone fell to the floor covered with the blood of the murderer, who staggered, clutched at the wall for support--imprinting on it the red marks--and, fearing another bullet, fled.
"She saw him pass through the laboratory, and listened.