Her sharp little nails bit into the flesh of his fingers.

In a last desperate effort she placed the receiver to her lips.
"Give me long distance, Coaldale Number--" With a quick movement he snapped the connecting wire from the instrument, and the receiver was free in her hand.
"Doris, you are mad!" he protested.

"Wait a minute, my dear girl-- just a minute." "I don't care! I _will_ know!" Mr.Wynne turned and picked up a heavy cane from the hall-stand, and brought it down on the transmitter with all his strength.

The delicate mechanism jangled and tingled, then the front fell off at their feet.

The diaphragm dropped and rolled away.
"Doris, you must not!" he commanded again gravely.