He made a rush for her, but she evaded him, keeping the table between them.
There was no word said.

The girl's breath was coming in great gasps from the fright and shock she had received, but Dale's was shrill and laboring from the strength of his passions.
Reason left him as they circled around the table, and with a curse he overturned it so that it rolled and crashed out of the way, leaving her with no obstacle behind which to find shelter.
She ran toward the door, but Dale caught her at the threshold.

She twisted and squirmed in his grasp, scratching him and clawing at his face in an access of terror, and one hand finally caught the black mask covering and tore it from his face.
"Alva Dale!" she shrieked.

"Oh, you beast!" Fighting with redoubled fury she forced him against one of the door jambs, still scratching and clawing.

Dale grasped one hand, but the free one reached his face, the fingers sinking into the flesh and making a deep gash in his cheek.
The pain made a demon of Dale, and he struck her.