* * * * * On a flood of delirious revelry Nita catapulted through the heavy draperies into the dimly lit alcove. Her husband came bursting in after her. The curtains trembled into place and the sounds of the frenzied merrymaking came to them as though from far away. "How dare you!" Nita expostulated furiously with a stamp of her foot. "How dare you, Tom!" He stood glaring at her fixedly, breathing hard, his slim hands clenched until the knuckles showed like chalk. Her eyes were pools of fire. Her breasts heaved tumultuously. "You have been hateful tonight, Tom!" She dabbed frantically at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "You have humiliated me terribly!" He remained silent. "You actually tore me out of Tony's arms just now!" she went on scathingly. "You actually flung me in here!" Romani swallowed hard. "You'll have to apologize to Tony." He dismissed the suggestion with a shrug. "You'll have to!" she insisted. "You've been dancing with Tony all night!" he rasped savagely. "Every time I looked up, it seemed, he was holding you in his arms with his dirty eyes undressing you." "Tom!" "I asked you not to dance with him so often." "You're being ridiculous!" "You've been acting deliberately contrary to my wishes." He didn't hear her. "I pleaded with you but you persisted. It made my blood boil. I saw red, while Tony exulted. Finally, I commanded you to dance no more with him. After all, you are my wife, you know. You laughed in my face." She tossed her head like a spoiled child. "Hear it, Nita!" He eagerly took a step toward her. "The last dance! Shall we waltz it together?" "No!" She meant to punish him for his show of jealousy. Romani recoiled as though from a slap in the face. "I shall dance it with Tony," she told him airily. "Let me pass!" She started to brush past her husband, as the draperies parted and Colletti appeared. "Nita," he began, "you----" With a nerve-tearing snarl, Romani flashed his slender-bladed dagger and lunged. "Oh!" Nita started to scream. "Tom, you----" Her strangled shriek ended in a gurgling gasp, as the dagger sheathed itself to the hilt in her bosom. Blood gushed and bubbled around the buried blade. An expression of mingled bewilderment, surprize and incredulity flitted over her ghastly, painted face, as Romani caught his crumpling wife in his arms. "Nita!" he croaked, his red rage dropping from him like a discarded cloak. "Speak to me, sweet! Nita! Nita! Nita! Good God! What have I done?" "You've killed her, Tom!" Colletti could not keep the oily satisfaction from his voice. "You have murdered her!" "Nita!" Romani was beside himself with grief. "Speak to me, dear! I wouldn't hurt you! I wouldn't! I'd die first!" He covered her face with kisses. "Nita! Nita! Nita!" She hung limp in his embrace. "Speak to me, darling!" he beseeched, as he tore off his mask and flung it across the shadowy alcove. "I love you! I love you! Speak to me, Nita!"