"How--how did you know?" he asked. He spoke almost in a whisper, as a man speaks who is recovering from an anaesthetic. "I heard you--groan," said Celia, also almost in a whisper. "You did?" he said, more clearly, and with disgust. "I must have groaned pretty loudly." His self-contempt was evident. There was a pause, then he said: "You are the girl who lives opposite?" A flicker of irritation and impatience shone in his eyes. "Why do you interfere? It is no business of yours!" "Yes, it is," she said, and there was something like a note of anger in her voice; for it seemed to her that he was extremely ungrateful. "It is the duty of anyone to prevent a man making--a--a fool of himself. You ought to be ashamed." Unwittingly, she had used the right tone. He leant back in the chair and stared at her with a mixture of resentment and amusement. "You have plenty of confidence, anyhow, young lady," he said. "And you have none," retorted Celia, with a dash of colour. "Fancy a man of your age trying to--to kill himself!" "My age!" He laughed mirthlessly, ironically. "You talk to me, look at me, as if I were a boy." "You are not much more," said Celia; "and a foolish one into the bargain." He pushed impatiently the short lock of hair from his forehead, which was dank with sweat. "Be that as it may," he said, "you have interfered most unwarrantably in a matter which does not concern you. All the same, I suppose you expect me to say that I am obliged to you. Well, I'm not; I don't like being interfered with, especially--by a woman. You come into my room----" He tried to rise with an air of dignity, but he sank back, as if he were weak, and with his arms extended along those of the chair regarded her with a grim smile of whimsicality. "Well, I suppose I ought to say I am obliged to you. Consider that I have said it and--pray, don't let me keep you." Celia rose, the revolver still in her hand. "Good night," she said. "Here!" he called out to her, wearily; "give me back that thing; put it down." "Certainly not," said Celia, with decision. "You are not fit to be trusted with it." "Oh, am I not?" he said, sarcastically. "You know you are not. What were you doing with it, what were you going to do with it, when I came in?" she demanded. "What an unnecessary question," he retorted. "I was going to shoot myself, of course." "Exactly. That is why I am taking it away from you." "You are very clever," he said, with an attempt at sarcasm. "I can go out and buy another. No, I can't"--he laughed rather quaveringly--"I haven't the coin. Put that revolver down, young lady, and leave me alone." "I shall do nothing of the kind," said Celia, her eyes bright, her lips drawn straight. "I mean, that I am going to take the revolver. And I am not sure that I ought to leave you alone. If I do, will you promise me----"