"She wants to kill herself," said Madison. "I just called you to witness that the act is entirely voluntary on her part." Turning to the frenzied, hysterical woman, he said indifferently: "Now go ahead!" In a state bordering on collapse, Laura dropped the pistol on the floor. "John, I--can't----" Madison waved the maid away. "Annie, she's evidently changed her mind. You may go." "But, Miss Laura, Ah----" "You may go!" he cried peremptorily. Bewildered and not understanding, the negress disappeared through the _portieres_. In the same gentle tone, but carrying with it an almost frigid conviction, he went on: "You didn't have the nerve. I knew you wouldn't. For a moment you thought the only decent thing for you to do was to die, and yet you couldn't go through. I am sorry for you--more sorry than I can tell." He took a step toward the door. "You're going--you're going?" she wailed. "Yes," he replied firmly. She wept softly. Between her sobs she cried: "And--and--you never thought that perhaps I'm frail, and weak, and a woman, and that now, maybe, I need your strength, and you might give it to me, and it might be better. I want to lean on you--lean on you, John. I know I need some one." Coaxingly she entreated him; in her tenderest, most seductive tones she made a last desperate effort to win him back. "Aren't you going to let me? Won't you give me another chance?" she pleaded tearfully. He repelled her coldly. "I gave you your chance, Laura," he replied. "Give me another!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He struggled with her, disentangling himself from her frantic embrace. Pulling away, he said determinedly: "You leaned the wrong way. Good-bye." Going quickly to the door before she could again stop him, he opened the door and disappeared. An instant later she heard the outer corridor door slam. He was gone--forever! She uttered a shrill scream of despair. "John--John--I----"