"Dead!" he mumbled and straightened. "Gone to the hell where he belongs!" He sank on his knees beside his dead wife. Tenderly he kissed her cold eyes, her carmined lips, the little hollow at the base of her throat. "Coming, Nita!" he spoke as though replying to an urgent summons and plunged the dagger into his own heart. "Com----" He pitched forward over the dead woman. The music and the singing ceased. The gray dawning peered in at the window.