enough harm."

"I shall harm you no more." He drew himself up in gloomy majesty. "I
have finished my life. I am bowing my farewell. Another instant, and I
shall vanish into the everlasting night."

"That would be cowardly!" exclaimed Hilda. She was profoundly moved.
"You have plenty to live for."

"Do you forgive me, Hilda?" He gave her one of his looks of tragic
eloquence.

"Yes--I forgive you."

He misunderstood the gentleness of her voice. "She loves me still!" he
said to himself. "We shall die together and our names will echo down
the ages." He looked burningly at her and said: "I was mad--mad with
love for you. And when I realized that I had lost you, I went down,
down, down. God! What have I not suffered for your sake, Hilda!" As
he talked he convinced himself, pictured himself to himself as having
been drawn on by a passion such as had ruined many others of the great
of earth.

"That's all past now." She spoke impatiently, irritated against
herself because she was not hating him. "I don't care to hear any more
of that kind of talk."

A customer came in, and while Hilda was busy Mr. Feuerstein went to the
rear counter. On a chopping block lay a knife with a long, thin blade,
ground to a fine edge and a sharp point. He began to play with it, and
presently, with a sly, almost insane glance to assure himself that she
was not seeing, slipped it into the right outside pocket of his coat.
The customer left and he returned to the front of the shop and stood
with just the breadth of the end of the narrow counter between him and
her.

"It's all over for me," he began. "Your love has failed me. There is
nothing left. I shall fling myself through the gates of death. I
shall be forgotten. And you will live on and laugh and not remember
that you ever had such love as mine."

Another customer entered. Mr. Feuerstein again went to the rear of the
space outside the counters. "She loves me. She will gladly die with
me," he muttered. "First into HER heart, then into mine, and we shall
be at peace, dead, as lovers and heroes die!"

When they were again alone, he advanced and began to edge round the end
of the counter. She was no longer looking at him, did not note his
excitement, was thinking only of how to induce him to go. "Hilda," he
said, "I have one last request--a dying man's request--"

The counter was no longer between them. He was within three feet of
her. His right hand was in h