With a stifled cry she caught his hands through the bars, as though to hold him by main strength. "Are you crazy?" he said fiercely, thrusting them away. "Be careful! If the thing drops you'll break your arms!" "I--I don't care!" she said breathlessly. "I can't let----" "Crack!" But the car stuck again. "I _will_ call the police!" she cried. "The papers may make fun of _you_." "Was it for _me_ you were afraid? Oh, Mr. Vanderdynk! What do I care for ridicule compared to--to----" The car had sunk so far in the shaft now that she had to kneel and put her head close to the floor to see him. "I will only be a minute at the telephone," she said. "Keep up courage; I am thinking of you every moment." "W-will you let me say one word?" he stammered. "Oh, what? Be quick, I beg you." "It's only goodbye--in case the thing drops. May I say it?" "Y-yes--yes! But say it quickly." "And if it doesn't drop after all, you won't be angry at what I'm going to say?" "N-no. Oh, for Heaven's sake, hurry!" "Then--you are the sweetest woman in the world!... Goodbye--Sacharissa-- dear." She sprang up, dazed, and at the same moment a terrific crackling and splintering resounded from the shaft, and the car sank out of sight. Faint, she swayed for a second against the balustrade, then turned and ran downstairs, ears strained for the sickening crash from below. There was no crash, no thud. As she reached the drawing-room landing, to her amazement a normally-lighted elevator slid slowly down, came to a stop, and the automatic grilles opened quietly. As Killian Van K. Vanderdynk crept forth from the elevator, Sacharissa's nerves gave way; his, also, seemed to disintegrate; and they stood for some moments mutually supporting each other, during which interval unaccustomed tears fell from the gray eyes, and unaccustomed words, breathed brokenly, reassured her; and, altogether unaccustomed to such things, they presently found themselves seated in a distant corner of the drawing-room, still endeavoring to reassure each other with interclasped hands. They said nothing so persistently that the wordless minutes throbbed into hours; through the windows the red west sent a glowing tentacle into the room, searching the gloom for them. It fell, warm, across her upturned throat, in the half light. For her head lay back on his shoulder; his head was bent down, lips pressed to the white hands crushed fragrantly between his own. A star came out and looked at them with astonishment; in a little while the sky was thronged with little stars, all looking through the window at them. Her maid knocked, backed out hastily and fled, distracted. Then Ferdinand arrived with a plumber. Later the butler came. They did not notice him until he ventured to cough and announce dinner. The interruptions were very annoying, particularly when she was summoned to the telephone to speak to her father. "What is it, dad?" she asked impatiently. "Are you all right?"