"What shall we do?" cried the widow, wringing her hands.

It was indeed a case of difficulty. Mynheer Vandersloosh, before he had
quitted this transitory scene, had become a personage as bulky as the
widow herself, and the bed had been made unusually wide; the widow still
retained the bed for her own use, for there was no knowing whether she
might not again be induced to enter the hymeneal state. It occupied more
than one half of the room, and the dog had gained a position from which
it was not easy for two women to dislodge him; and, as the dog snarled
and growled under the bed, so did the widow's wrath rise as she stood
shivering--and it was directed against the master. She vowed mentally,
that so sure as the dog was under the bed, so sure should his master
never get into it.

And Babette's wrath was also kindled, now that the first pain of the
bite had worn off; she seized the broom again, and made some furious
lunges at Snarleyyow, so furious, that he could not regain possession
with his teeth. The door of the room had been left open that the dog
might escape--so had the street-door; and the widow stood at the foot of
the bed, waiting for some such effect being produced by Babette's
vigorous attacks; but the effects were not such as she anticipated; the
dog became more enraged, and at last sprang out at the foot of the bed,
flew at the widow, tore her only garment, and bit her in the leg. Frau
Vandersloosh screamed and reeled--reeled against the door left half
open, and falling against it, slammed it to with her weight, and fell
down shrieking. Snarleyyow, who probably had intended to make off,
seeing that his escape was prevented, again retreated under the bed, and
as soon as he was there he recommenced an attack upon Babette's legs.