"You're hurting me----"
And now Mark King moved at last. Before the last word had done vibrating through the still room he was through the window, taking the shortest way. Gratton's hand was on Gloria's shoulder; King threw it off, hurling the man backward across the room. Gloria turned to him---"Mark!" she cried. "Oh, Mark King!"
He put his arms about her, thinking that she was going to fall. For an instant he held her tight; he felt her heart beating as though it would burst through her bosom.
"You won't let him----?"
He moved with her to a chair, placed her in it, and turned toward Gratton, a look like a naked knife in his eyes.
"By jings!" muttered old Jim under his breath. "By jings!"