The late-afternoon sunlight vanished. The room became a place of whispering shadows. Nita shivered. "What's the matter?" her husband asked anxiously. "I'm getting jittery, I guess," she laughed nervously. "I've been going too fast a pace lately. I'll be glad when tonight's over. We won't unmask till we have breakfast at dawn." There was something akin to fear in her shifting glances. "After tonight I'll be taking a long rest." Colletti unconsciously tautened. "Where'd you get this, Tony?" Romani wanted to know, as his long fingers stroked the silk. "In Padua," Colletti replied. "In a little cubbyhole of a shop off the beaten track. I figuratively fell into it." He chuckled at the recollection. "The mask struck my fancy as soon as I saw it." He fingered the card in his vest pocket. "I'll run along now. No need to ring for Benito. I'll see you tonight." They were not hearing him. As though fascinated, hypnotized, metamorphosed into stone like those who looked upon the Gorgons, they appeared completely absorbed in the mask. Colletti gathered up his hat and gloves and stick and silently let himself out. "After tonight," he chortled his satisfaction, as he strolled down Park Avenue, "the house and all the income from the old man's estate will be mine. I'll live like a lord and throw some parties that'll knock the town's eyes out." He gloated in anticipation. "The poor, blind fools! If the mask doesn't work, this will." He brought a tiny vial to view and cuddled it in his palm. "If the necessity arises, I will drop this into their wine. It is odorless, colorless, tasteless and leaves no traces. Nita and Tom will never see another dawn." * * * * * "You're beautiful tonight, my dear!" Romani rapturously murmured his adoration. "Divinely lovely, Nita mine!" "You're handsome yourself, Tom!" Her eyes glowed like summer stars. "I'm mad about you, darling!" She adjusted her domino. He caught her in his arms and clasped her close. Their lips met and clung. "I couldn't," he muttered thickly, "I wouldn't live without you, dear!" "Be careful!" She struggled for breath and reluctantly shoved him away. "You're crushing me, Tom! You're mussing me, too! Let me go now! Please!" Unwillingly he released her. From below there floated up to them the dulcet strains of a stringed ensemble mingled with shrill feminine laughter, the hoarser mirth of men, the rustling of garments, the shuffling of feet. The air was heady with intoxicating perfumes. "We must be going down!" she panted through Cupid-bow lips. "Are you ready?" "Just about." He slipped on the mask Colletti had brought. "All set! Let's go!" She started and gasped, while her tiny hands flew to her slender throat. "What are you staring at?" he demanded, cold steel suddenly in his voice. "What's the matter, anyway?" "Your eyes, Tom!" she choked. "They're--they're--they're----" She couldn't go on.