nothing more terrible than the sight of a drawn face, half-hidden
in the pillows; a face in which life and death still fought for the
mastery as they had fought on that other day when life, unhelped, would
have been the loser.

The small service was quickly rendered. Griswold lifted the sick man,
and his companion, deft and steady-handed, administered the stimulant.

"Ten drops; no more and no less; exactly on the half-hour: those are
Doctor Bertie's orders," she said, when they had withdrawn to the outer
room. And then: "Good-night, for a little while. Don't hesitate to call
me when you've had enough."

For so long as he could distinguish her light step in the corridor,
Griswold stood motionless as she had left him. Then he flung himself
into the nearest chair and covered his face with his hands.

* * * * *

The quarter-hour passed, and after the three mellow strokes had died
away the silence grew slowly maddening. When inaction was no longer
bearable, Griswold sprang up and went to stand at the open window. The
summer night was hot and breathless. In the north-west a storm cloud was
creeping up into the sky, and he watched its black shadow climbing like
a terrifying threat of doom out of the illimitable and blotting out the
stars one by one.... "For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth
himself in vain...." Out of a childhood which seemed very far away and
unreal the words of the Psalmist came to ring in his ears like the
muffled tolling of a passing-bell. So it must be soon for all the
living; and whether a little sooner or a little later, what could it
matter? A breath more or less to be drawn; a longer or shorter
fluttering of the feeble heart; that was all.

The clock struck eleven, and mechanically he poured out the dose from
the larger bottle and gave it to the sick man. When it was done he left
the bedside and the inner room quickly and went back to the open window.
The air was thick and stifling, and when he sat down in the deep
window-seat he was gasping for breath. It was going to be harder than he
had thought it would, though now that the time had come he realized that
he had been subconsciously planning for it, preparing for it. And the
means which had been thrust into his hands could scarcely have been
simpler. He had only to sit still and do nothing--and no one would ever
know. He took up the small phial and held it to the light: ten drops, or
forty drops; the