Whatever it was that she was calling to answered her. He suddenly bowed his head and buried it in her lap. She felt his body shake, and he began to sob, hard, dry sobs that broke him as they came. He held her close, with his face hidden. Claire pressed her hands on each side of his temples, feeling the throbbing of his heart. She felt as if something inside her were being torn to pieces, something that knocked its way against her side in a vain endeavor to escape. She very nearly gave in. Then Winn stopped as suddenly as he had begun. "Sorry," he said, "but this kind of thing is a bit wearing. I'm not going to unlock that door. Do you intend to stay all night here, or give me your promise?" He spoke steadily now; his moment of weakness was past. She could have gone then, but nothing would have induced her to leave him while he cried. "I don't intend to do either," Claire said with equal steadiness. "When you think I ought to go, you'll let me out." It struck Winn that her knowledge of him was positively uncanny. "I don't believe," he said sharply, "you're only nineteen. I believe you've been in love before!" Claire didn't say anything, but she looked past him at the door. Her look maddened him. "You're playing with me!" he cried. "By Jove! you're playing with me!" He caught her by the shoulders, and for a moment he believed that he was going to kill her; but her eyes never wavered. He was not hurting her, and she knew that he never would. She said: "O my darling boy!" Winn got up and walked to the window. When he came back, his expression had completely changed. "Now cut along to bed," he said quietly. "You're tired. Go--at once, Claire." This time she knew she ought to go, but something held her back. She was not satisfied with the look in his eyes. He was controlled again, but it was a controlled desperation. She could not leave him with that. Her mind was intensely alert with pain; she followed his eyes. They rested for a moment on the stand by his bed. He pushed the key across the table toward her, but she did not look at the key; she crossed the room and opened the drawer under the Bible. She saw what she had expected to see. It was Winn's revolver; upon it lay a snap-shot of Peter. He always kept them together. Claire took out the revolver. Winn watched her, with his hands in his pockets. "Be careful," he said; "it's loaded." She brought it to him and said: "Now take all the things out of it." Winn laughed, and unloaded it without a word. "Now open the window," she ordered, "and throw them into the snow." Winn obeyed. When he came back she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Now I'll go," she said. "All right," agreed Winn, gently. "Wait for me in the cloak-room, and I'll take you across. But, I say, look here--will you ever forgive me? I'm afraid I've been a most fearful brute."