“Now listen, Ed, stop that, now! I’m desperate. _I’m desperate_, Ed, do you hear? Can’t you see?” Her voice was staccato—almost shrill and yet mournful, too. “I’ve come to tell you that you’ve got to marry me now. _You’ve got_ to—do you hear?” She was fumbling at her breast where lay that heavy blue thing—no longer so cold as when she had placed it there. The handle was upward. She must draw it now—show it—or hold it under her cloak ready so that at the right moment she could show it—and make him understand that unless he did something.... But her hand shaking so that she could scarcely hold it. It was so heavy—so terrible. She could scarcely hear herself adding: “Otherwise, I’m going to your father and mine, now. My father may do something terrible to me but he’ll do more to you. And so will your father when he knows.... But, anyway....” She was about to add: “You’ve got to marry me, and right away too, or, or, I’m going to kill you and myself, that’s all—” and then to produce the revolver, and wave it before him in a threatening dramatic manner. But before that the uncalculated and non-understanding fury of Hauptwanger. “Well, of all the nerve! Say, cut this out, will ya? Who do you think you are? What did I tell you? Go to my father, if you want to. Go to yours! Who’s afraid? Do you think they’re going to believe a —— like you? I never had anything to do with you, and that’s that!” And then in his anger giving her a push—as much to overawe her as anything. But then, in spite of her desire not to give way, fury, blindness, pain,—whirling, fiery sparks, such as never in all her life before had she seen—and executing strange, rhythmic, convoluting orbits in her brain—swift, eccentric, red and yet beautiful orbits. And in the center of them the face of Hauptwanger—her beloved—but not as it was now—oh, no—but rather haloed by a strange white light—as it was under the trees in the spring. And herself turning, and in spite of the push, jumping before him. “You will marry me, Ed, you will! You will! You see this? You will marry me!” And then, as much to her astonishment as to his—yet with no particular terror to either of them—the thing spitting flame—making a loud noise—jumping almost out of her hand—so much so that before she could turn it away again there was another report—another flash of red in the dusk. And then Hauptwanger, too astonished quite for words at the moment, exclaiming: “Jesus! What are you....” And then, because of a sharp pain in his chest, putting his hand there and adding: “Oh, Christ! I’m shot!” and falling forward to one side of her....