coming to her, Drene?"

"Continue to guess. But I know you. It's yourself you're sorry for and
what you'll have to endure--live through. That's what you can't stand,
and remain the sleek, self-satisfied rat you are. No, it will make earth
a living hell for you; never a second, day or night, will you be able
to forget--if you really do love her.... And I believe you do--I don't
understand how a thing like you can love--but it seems it can."

After a silence Graylock said: "You don't care if you damn yourself?"

"It's worth it to me."

"Are you willing that I should know you are as great a blackguard as I
am?" Drene's gaunt features reddened and he set his jaws in silence.

"Don't you care what you do to her?" asked Graylock, unsteadily. "It's a
viler business than that for which you are punishing me."

For a long time Drene sat there looking down at the weapon on his knees.
And after a while, the other man spoke huskily: "It's bad enough either
way for me, Drene. I'll do what you wish in the matter. I'll leave
the country; I'll stay; whichever you say. Or," he said with a ghastly
smile, "I'll clean out that automatic for you to-night--if you'll marry
her."

Drene looked up, slowly:

"What did you say?"

"I said that I'd clean out your automatic for you--to-night--if you
wish.... It can be an accident or not, just as you say."

"Where?"

"In my own rooms--if it is to be an accident."

"Do you offer--"

"Yes; if you'll marry her afterwards. If you say you will I'll take your
word."

"And then you'll be out of your misery, you damned coward!"

"God knows.... But I think not," said Graylock, under his breath.

Drene twisted the automatic, rose and continued to twirl it,
considering. Presently he began to pace the floor, no longer noticing
the other man. Once his promenade brought him up facing the wall where a
calendar hung.

He stood for a while looking at it absently. After a few moments he
stepped nearer, detached the sheet for the present month, then one by
one tore off the remaining sheets until he came to the month marked
December, Graylock watching him all the while.

"I think it happened on Christmas," remarked Drene turning toward the
other and laying a finger on the number 25 printed in red.

Graylock's head bent slightly.

"Very well. Suppose about eleven o'clock on Christmas night you give
your automatic a thorough cleaning.

"If you say so."

"You have one?"

"I shall buy one."