Isabel dropped upon her knees before him.
"This inventor—this man whom you insist on seeing is half insane with disappointment and anger," she rushed on desperately. "Remember that a vast fortune, honor, fame were at his finger tips when you—you placed them beyond his reach by the destruction of the compact. He has sworn to kill you."
"I can't go!"
"If you know that when you meet one of you will die?"
"No." The answer came fiercely, through clenched teeth. Mr. Grimm disengaged his right hand and drew his revolver; the barrel clicked under his fingers as it spun.
"If I tell you that of the two human beings in this world whom I love this man is one?"
"No."
A shuffling step sounded in the hallway just outside. Mr. Grimm stepped back from the kneeling figure, and turned to face the door with his revolver ready.
"Great God!" It was a scream of agony. "He is my brother! Don't you see?"
She came to her feet and went staggering across to the door. The key clicked in the lock.