"It's no use, Tom!" Colletti mocked him. "She's dead!" Romani seemed to become aware of the other man's presence. "This means the electric chair for you, Tom," Colletti cruelly reminded his cousin. "You have murdered her." For clock-ticks that seemed eternities Romani stared hard at the speaker. Gently he lowered his dead wife to the thick-piled rug. Carefully he pulled the dagger from her breast. Tenderly he closed her eyes, crossed her hands on her bloody bosom and straightened her limbs. "Thanks to the mask," Colletti pointed, "you have murdered your wife, Tom." He handed the anguished man the time-yellowed card. "Soon you'll be walking through that little green door." "I can't live without you, Nita!" Romani declared brokenly, as he deciphered the faded legend. "I won't!" "The state will attend to that, Tom," Colletti jeered. "You need have no worries on that score." * * * * * Romani retrieved the discarded mask and, whirling on Colletti, thrust it at him. "Put it on!" he ordered bruskly and tickled his cousin's ribs with his blood-smeared dagger. "Put it on or I'll drive this steel into your devil's heart!" Colletti paled and gulped and hesitated. "Put it on!" Romani reiterated huskily, increasing the pressure of the dagger, while with his free hand he tore the death mask from his cousin's face. "Hurry!" With trembling fingers Colletti adjusted the red silk mask over his twitching features. "_Who wears this mask!_" Romani growled, as through the muted strains of the waltz the weary revelers chorused _Good-night, Ladies_. "It's your turn now, Tony! _Is doomed to slay!_ Murder, Tony! _Whom he loves best!_ That's yourself, Tony! You're going to kill yourself! You've never loved anybody but yourself! _Ere break of day!_ Which isn't far off! You'll have to hurry, Tony! You haven't much time!" Like a man suffering the tortures of the damned, Colletti's whole body was writhing horribly. His palsied hands clawed at his throat. He appeared to be wrestling with an invisible antagonist. "_Whom he loves best!_" Romani repeated hoarsely. "You're taking your own worthless life, Tony! Hurry!" The crimson mask moving to his labored breathing, Colletti fumbled inside the hideous grave garments he was wearing. His groping hands brought a tiny vial to light. "_Is doomed to slay!_" Romani hissed, stepping back, for the coercion of the dagger was no longer needed. "_Whom he loves best!_" While Romani watched him balefully, Colletti slowly lifted the fluttering mask with his left hand, while with his right he tilted the bottle on his mouth. With a hollow gulp he drained its contents. His hands dropped like leaden plummets. For a split second he steadied. Then a tremor shook him from heels to crown. He swung half-way around, recovered, his knees buckled and he collapsed on his face. Romani rolled him over, nudged him callously with his foot, stooped and listened to his heart.