Roma's sufferings grew so extreme that his reluctance yielded to pity. He bowed assent, and hurried from the room to summon a minister.
The physician entered in haste, but Roma repulsed him.
"Stand back! I will not take an antidote! I am already dying!" she screamed.
He caught the vial from her fingers.
"How much have you taken?"
"The bottle was full—and you see what is left!"
"Then God have mercy on your soul. I am powerless to save you from your own rash act, poor girl, even if you permitted me to try. Why have you done this dreadful thing?"
"A quarrel with my lover!"
"Yes, it is true," sobbed Lyde. "She and Jesse quarreled, and she rashly swallowed the poison."
She added chokingly: