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Well, a hell-cat of a society woman sued her husband for divorce and named Miss Corcoran. Pure viciousness, it was. There wasn't a shadow of proof, or even suspicion." "I remember something about that case. The woman withdrew the charge, didn't she?" "When it was too late. Red McGraw had an early tip and sent me to interview Marna Corcoran.
Mother Sawyer: "A crew of villains a knot of bloody hangmen! set to torment me! I know not why." Justice: "Alas! neighbour Banks, are you a ringleader in mischief? Fie I to abuse an aged woman!" Banks: "Woman! a she hell-cat, a witch! To prove her one, we no sooner set fire on the thatch of her house, but in she came running, as if the Devil had sent her in a barrel of gunpowder."
His eye was for the large, the stark effect. And by the intense singleness of his vision, he had freighted his opinions with an extraordinary conviction. He had shouted down, as from a high bench, the world's judgment on the life of Cally Heth. Twenty-four years and over she had lived in this town; and at the end to be called a she-devil and a hell-cat. The girl's bosom heaved.
He threw back his head in a roar of laughter, then with a twist of his fingers brought his captive to the knees. Sharp teeth flashed in a gleam of white. He gave a roar of pain and tore away his hand. She had bit him savagely in the wrist, as she had once done with another man on a memorable occasion. "Goddlemighty!" he bellowed. "You damn li'l' hell-cat!" She was on her feet and away instantly.
The armistice concluded, Beresford and Morse walked over to the camp-fire to find out how badly West was hurt. "Sorry I had to hit you, but you would have it, you know," the constable told him grimly. The man snapped his teeth at him like a wolf in a trap. "You didn't hit me, you liar. It was that li'l' hell-cat of McRae.
Jones, take that hell-cat by the arms!" "Jones will do nothing of the kind and you stand back, Fagin; don't dare to lay a hand on me again!" Her face was white, her lips set, her eyes blazing, but Fagin, assured of her helplessness, laughed, and stepped forward.
I told you you hadn't ought to have come. Now there's the fire. Why not forget it and burn it up, and then it's over just as neat as neat, and then we're aboard, and after the pearls again. Why, what must the boy be thinking of all this? He must be thinking he's got a hell-cat for a father. That's what he must be thinking."
"'Somewhat! It's said to be about a million of money! Look here!" and she showed him a begrimed and crumpled scrap of newspaper, containing a full account of "Cobbler" Horn's fortune. With a cry, Daniel Froud seized the woman, and shook her till it almost seemed as though the bones rattled in her skin. "You hell-cat! Why didn't you tell me that before?"
Eh?... little she-devil, pretty little hell-cat!..." Cally smothered a little noise between a cry and a sob. She started away, by sheer strength of horror; somehow got away from the terrible old face, ran up her own steps. Glancing whitely over her shoulder from this secure coign, she saw that Jack Dalhousie's father still stood unmoving on her sidewalk, staring and leaning on his cane....
M'liss only repeated her question. "And what if I did kill him?" said the prisoner savagely; "what's that to you, you young hell-cat? Guard! damnation! what do you let her come here for? Do you hear? Guard!" he screamed, rising in a transport of passion, "take her away! fling her downstairs! What the h ll is she doing here?"
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