"Mollie!" he gasped, in consternation.
The girl stamped her foot on the floor.
"Don't call me Mollie:" she screamed, passionately. "Don't dare to speak
to me, to look at me, to come near me! I have heard of women murdering
men, and if I had a loaded pistol this moment, God help you, Doctor
Oleander!"
She looked like a mad thing--like a crazed pythoness. Her wild, fair
hair fell loose about her; her blue eyes blazed steely flame; her face
was crimson with the intensity of her rage, and shame, and despair, from
forehead to chin.
"Go!" she cried, fiercely, "you snake, you coward, you felon, you
abductor of feeble girls, you poisoner! Yes, you poison the very air I
breathe! Go, or, by all that is holy, I will spring at your throat and
strangle you with my bare hands!"
"Good Heaven!" exclaimed the petrified doctor, retreating precipitately,
"what a little devil it is! Mollie, Mollie, for pity's sake--"
Another furious stamp, a spring like a wild cat toward him, and the
aghast doctor was at the door.
"There, there, there, Mollie! I'm going.
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