And my command was obeyed. The man who stood there actually did stop, though why in the moment of his surprise that dreadful pistol did not go off I cannot understand. But the hand containing it dropped to his side, and for several seconds we stood staring at each other, he with the pallid daze of one who has been halted on the brink of destruction, and I with the trembling indignation of a respectable female with a most unfeminine situation suddenly thrust upon her. He was a tall thin man, no longer young, and dressed in the extreme of fashion save for a large rabbit's foot that dangled incongruously from his watch chain. His eyes were large and dark and overbrilliant, and his disheveled head was hatless. "What were you doing?" I asked severely, though I knew perfectly well. "Don't you know that it's a sin?" I went on before he could answer. "Who are you?" the man asked in English, his voice hoarse and remote. "Go away and allow me to kill myself!" "Stuff and nonsense!" I replied tartly. "You put that--that weapon into your pocket this minute! Don't you know you are apt to cause us both to be arrested if a police officer should come this way?" Mechanically he obeyed, slipping the dreadful thing into his coat pocket, and continuing to stare at me in that helpless, dazed fashion. "Now come and sit down beside me on this bench!" I commanded, gathering my worsteds out of his way. He obeyed like a person in a trance. "There now!" said I. "You poor man, you are all upset! Wait a minute and I'll give you just what you need." Fortunately it is my habit always to carry a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia in my reticule in case of emergency, and at length an emergency had arisen. Hastily retrieving the little phial from its hiding place I uncorked it and offered it to my strange companion. "Here--drink this quickly!" I commanded. He took it and gave a hurried look about to see if anyone observed. There was nobody in sight. "You are right, it is less noisy!" he whispered. And with a single gulp he drained the phial and returned it to me. "How long does it take to work?" he whispered feebly, relaxing upon the bench. "Just a moment," I said soothingly. "There! Don't you feel better already?" "I do, strangely enough!" he replied, straightening up. "What kind of poison is it?" "It's aromatic ammonia," I said briskly, "and it won't poison you in the least. Never have I met such a silly person as you are!" "Baffled again!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, how much better I feel! What a shame! Why could you not let me die?" "Because it is the business of sensible women to take care of foolish men!" I returned. "Sit up now and tell me all about it. Was it love?" He obeyed and stared at me in that silly blank way of his.