Some one gasped, another laughed
hysterically, the sound breaking in his throat. Cortlandt turned
away gloatingly.
Kirk was the last to recover his powers, but when they did revive
they came with a prodigious rush. He plunged upward out of his
chair with a cry like a wounded animal, and the others rose with
him. The table rocked, something smashed, a chair was hurled
backward. The room broke into instant turmoil. Kirk felt hands
upon him, and then went blind with fury, struggling in a passion
too strong for coherent speech. He was engulfed in chaos. He felt
things break beneath his touch, felt bodies give way before him.
How or when Cortlandt left the room he never knew. Eventually he
found himself pinned in his chair, with Runnels' white face close
against his own and other hands upon his arms. His first frenzy
quickly gave way to a sickening horror. Some one was commanding
him to be still, to create no scene; but those were not words,
they were simply mutterings that conveyed no meaning.
"It's a lie! The man's crazy!" he cried, hoarsely; then, as his
companions drew away from him, he rose to his feet. "Why are you
looking at me like that? I tell you it's a damned lie! I never--"
Runnels turned to the table, and with shaking hand put a glass to
his lips and gulped its contents.
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