GRADY'S ROMANTIC DEATH
While Grady went to get it she emptied the vial into the dirty glass. Grady soon poured a quantity of the yellow wine on top of it, and then filled the cup. But to her horror, he handed her the glass and took the cup.
"No, no, John," she gasped, "you take the glass. I'll drink from the cup."
"Why," asked Grady, his eyes aflame with sudden suspicion, "what's the matter?"
"Oh, only that I left a kiss for you on the glass," she faltered.
Grady took the glass and slowly, very slowly, he raised it toward his lips, all the while gazing unwinkingly at the woman. Just at his lips the glass stopped and the woman could not avoid a shudder, she covered her eyes and Grady, used to reading people's minds, read hers. He let the glass fall and shouted:
"So, it's murder you want—well, murder it shall be, but I'll do the murdering."
She saw death in his eyes as he seized her arm but before death he would first have his way with her. She screamed and, pulling with the strength of despair, twisted the arm out of Grady's grasp, leaving half her sleeve in his hand.
Still, there could surely be no hope for her, and yet at that very instant when he poised himself to plunge after her again, his eyes turned glassy; paralysis seized him, and he sank slowly into his chair while the fainting woman tottered out of the door.
The next day, it so happened, Shevelin, the watchman, confessed to his connection with the Manhattan Bank robbery. The police were just taking up the trail that led to Grady's connection with the affair when the news came to headquarters that Grady was dead.
He was found with the sleeve of a woman's dress grasped convulsively in his hand. On the table were a bottle of wine and a cup. A broken glass and spilled wine on the floor showed traces of poison.