“Why not inside?” she asked. “Here, where the vapours of your witches’ cauldron simmer and steam--where I can feel your melting fires pricking every vein and nerve!” and she stretched out her arms towards the Wheel of strange opalescent light which now revolved almost at a snail’s pace. “Make short work of me, Dr. Dimitrius!--this is the place for it!” On a sudden impulse he sprang to her side and seized her hand. “Diana! You think me a pitiless murderer!” She looked straight into his eyes. “No, I don’t. I think you simply a man without any feeling except for yourself and your own aims. There are thousands,--aye, millions of your sex like you,--you are not extraordinary.” “If I succeed you will have cause to thank me----” “Possibly!” she answered, with a slight smile. “But you know gratitude sometimes takes curious and unexpected forms! One of the commonest is hatred of the person who has done you a kindness! Come, give me that fire-drop,--it is restless in its prison! We are fighting a strange duel, you and I--you are all for self, and your own ultimate triumph--I am selfless, having nothing to lose or to win----” “Nothing?” he repeated. “Foolish woman!--you cannot foresee--you cannot project yourself into the future. Suppose I gave you youth?--suppose with youth I gave you beauty?--Would you then call me selfish?” “Why, yes, of course!” she answered, composedly. “You would not give such gifts to me because you had any desire to make _me_ happy--nor would you give them if you could secure them for yourself without endangering your life! If you succeed in your attempts they would fall to my lot naturally as part of your ‘experiment,’ and would prove your triumph. But as far as my personality is concerned, you would not care what became of me, though with youth and beauty I might turn the tables on you!” She laughed,--then said again: “Give me my dose!” “I told you before that it would be better to take it when we go outside the laboratory,” he answered. “Suppose you became insensible! I could not leave you here.” “Why not?” she demanded, recklessly. “It would not matter to you. Please give it to me!--Whether I live or die I like doing things quickly!” With a certain sense of mingled compassion, admiration and reluctance, he handed her the phial. She looked with intent interest at the shining drop pent within, which glowed like a fine topaz, now fiery orange, now red, now pale amber, and moved up and down as rapidly and restlessly as quicksilver. “How pretty it is!” she said. “If it would only condense and harden into a gem one would like to wear it in a ring! It would outshine all Professor Chauvet’s jewels. Well, Dr. Dimitrius, good-night! If I fall into your dark pool don’t trouble to fish me out!--but if not, don’t leave me here till morning!” And, smiling, she put the phial to her lips and swallowed its contents.