“If it should be death,” he went on, speaking more to himself than to her--“I think it will be more your fault than mine. Not voluntarily your fault, except that perhaps you may have concealed from me details of your personality and experience which I ought to have known. And yet I believe you to be entirely honest. Success, as I have told you, depends on the perfect health and purity of the cells--so that if you were an unprincipled woman, or if you had led a tainted life--or you were a glutton, or one who drank and took drugs for imaginary ailments--the contents of this cup would kill you instantly, because the cells having been weakened and lacerated could not stand the inrush of new force. But had you been thus self-injured, you would have shown signs of it during these months of preparation, and so far I have seen nothing that should hinder complete victory.” “Then why delay any longer?”--and Diana gave a gesture of visible impatience--“It is more trying to me to wait here in suspense on your words than to die outright!” He looked at her half pleadingly--then turned his eyes towards the great Wheel, which was now, after sunset, going round with an almost sleepy slowness. One moment more of hesitation, and then with a firm hand he held out the cup. “Take it!” he said--“And may God be with you!” With a smile she accepted it, and putting her lips to the crystal rim, drained its contents to the last drop. For half or quarter of a second she stood upright,--then, as though struck by a flash of lightning, she fell senseless. Quickly Dimitrius sprang to her side, picked up the empty cup as it rolled from her hand, and called: “Vasho!”