He was drunk and he was brutal: _David_ had telephoned that he was at the railroad station and would be home in a few minutes; Quard, not content with promises, insisted on money, of which the woman had none to give him, or her jewels, which were locked away in the safe. When she refused to disclose the combination or to open the safe, Quard in besotted rage attempted to force her to open it. Struggling, they overturned the screen, exposing the _Thief_. Through a breathless and silent instant the two men faced one another, Quard bewildered, the _Thief_ seeing his way of escape barred. Then simultaneously they fired--Quard using the woman's revolver. One shot only took effect--the _Thief's_--and that fatally. Quard fell. Joan seized the arm of the _Thief_ and urged him from the house; as he vanished through the window, she picked up the revolver which Quard had dropped, and turned to the door. Frantic with alarm, _David_ entered. Joan reeled into his arms, screaming: "I have killed a burglar!" On this tableau the curtain fell--and rose and fell again and again at the direction of the house-manager deferring to an enthusiastic audience. Crude and raw as was this composition, the surprise of its last line and the strength with which it was acted, had won the unstinted approval of a public ever hungry for melodrama. Quard, revivified, bowing and smiling with suave and deprecatory grace, Joan in tears of excitement and delight, and the subordinate members of the company in varying stages of gratification over the prospect of prompt booking and a long engagement, were obliged to hold the stage through nine curtain-calls.... On her way back to her dressing-room Joan was halted by a touch on her shoulder. She paused, to recognize Gloucester, of whose presence in the house she had been ignorant. "Very well done, my dear," he said loftily; "very well done. You've got the makings of an actress in you, if you don't lose your head. Now run along and dry your eyes, like a good girl, and don't bother me with your silly gratitude." With this he brusquely turned his back to her. But Quard, overtaking her in the gangway, without hesitation or apology folded her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. And Joan submitted without remonstrance, athrill and elate. "Girlie!" he cried exultantly--"you're a wonder! "I _knew_ you could do it!... But, O my Gawd! you nearly finished me when you let that gun off right in my face!..." Somehow she found her way home alone, and shut herself up in the hall-bedroom to calm down and try to review the triumph sensibly. Unquestionably she had done well. Quard had done much better--but no wonder! She wasn't jealous: she was glad for his sake as well as for her own.