"You mean, give up the one thing I've lived for all these awful years?" "Yes." "I--I can't do it, Mary. It's got to be, sooner or later. That man and I can't live on the earth at the same time." "Oh! Won't you give me something to thank you for after all I've--" "Wait a minute! Let me think!" He began pacing the floor again. She watched him with bated breath, a half-hope in her heart. He stopped before her once more. His eyes were bright with a new, strange light. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Mary,--for you and Christine. I'll put an end to myself. That's the best way out of it. I can't live if he does. Wait a minute! It's the simplest, surest way. Don't breathe a word of this to any one. I'll go down to the river to-night. That will be the end of it all. I swear to you, I won't hunt up Grand,--on my word of honor, if you will believe that I have any honor. There is some sort of integrity in a man who can fight the battle I have--and without wavering or whimpering. I'll do that for you, Mary. It's the safest way." She had heard him at first with a sickening horror in her soul. It was a frightful compromise that he proposed. She knew he meant it, that he would keep his word. She understood how great the sacrifice would be on his part, how bitter the defeat; and she realized that he was doing it to justify himself in her eyes. As he got deeper into his amazing proposition, her clearing brain began to discern the rift in his armor. Not that she saw a sign of weakness beyond, but that the humanness of his strength was being revealed to her. There was an authority in his offer that dispelled all doubt as to the cloudiness of his mental vision. He was seeing things clearly. His sacrifice lay in the willingness to forego the joy of killing another man before he carried out his original design to make way with himself. She studied his face for a moment before speaking. There was something like gladness there--a truly bright glow that told of the relief he had found in at last doing something to please her! "Is there no other way, Tom?" she asked, so quietly that his eyes narrowed with a curious intentness. "It's the only one," he said grimly. She walked over to the window and looked down into the area-way. Her heart was throbbing loudly. "To-night?" she asked in muffled tones. "If I don't do it to-night I'll do something worse to-morrow," he said. "You promise me,--on your word of honor?" He started. "Certainly. I'll do it." She turned to face him, her back to the light. He could not see the expression in her eyes. "You will do this for me, Tom?" He nodded his head, that was all. "Take your own life?" "I was going to do it anyway. Before they could hang me." Both were silent for a long time. Neither had changed position. "You won't tell Christine that I did it, will you? Just say that I went away--to South America, I guess." "I will not tell her, Tom." "Is she going to marry David Jenison?" "I hope so."