“Get out of here, Statt,” she said, trying to calm her voice. “Get out of here. Quick!” “Hold her!” cried Statt. Fanny leaped toward the back. Jack Baruch caught her. “Jack--let go!” “She won’t do it. I see that,” said Statt. “She’ll phone to Mangel.” “Jack--let go!” “I can’t, Fanny. I’m sorry.” “Bind her to that chair.” Statt watched the operation. “Now, bind the chair.” The rope ate tight and inevitable in her flesh. “My men’ll come at ten ... and pull you ... and release you. Mangel pipes at the same hour. It’ll be at the Dominion Cafe--if you want to know, dear. And as to you ... don’t forget: we have your story and you’ve got a daughter.” Fanny for a moment fainted in the burn of horror and shame that flooded her eyes. “Come now,” she heard him again as he turned to the others. “Out of this.” They went before him docilely: not daring to look back. But Statt looked back. He came back. “You’ve always been crazy, Fanny Luve,” he said. “And now, doin’ this ... and for a dirty Jew ... for a Jew you don’t give a damn for ... for a Jew you can’t save.” He looked at her. She lay strained in her bonds. But her mind was free. And her face, free looking at him, was calm. Statt came forward a little more. “Why are you crazy, Fanny Luve?” He stooped to his knee: he kissed the hand of Fanny. Then he tramped out. * * * * * There was a smile on the face of Mrs. Luve. Her eyes saw happenings far away as if all happenings far away were happenings to smile on. “For six hours I lay bound. I called and cried for Clara who was in bed upstairs. Just three flights up. She did not hear me.... She had heard too many other calls, I guess, since she lay there, to understand that this call was for her.” Mrs. Luve smiled. “No bell rang all that time, and I stopped calling.... “It seemed to me though, that I could hear the shot that got old Abe in the heart, as he stepped out into the street through the cafe’s swinging door.... Very soon after that, the police. Clara and I were thrown into the street. Clara died in the Hospital of pneumonia. That is all.” _SEVEN_ EARTH * * * * * One of the candles between the woman and the boy had burned faster than the other. It guttered, went out. She saw the death of Clara.... The long gray room full of the streaking stains of the white sick. Clara’s black hair and the wan sheet and the bars of the iron bed. Clara’s clasping arms, moist, shutting out life.--Let me die with you!... The fading eyes of Clara. “You forgive me? forgive me? I should not have brought you in, O Fanny. I am glad to pay for that, I was mad! But there were six years.... I have loved you. Now, you, what are you going to do?” “You forgive me, Clara? What becomes of any of us? I have loved you also.” ... “I murdered her. For what?... White Clara for a dirty Jew! Mangel is dead at any rate ... just dead in another place....”