( THE BARBER, still with his hand upon the other man's eyes, suddenly seizes a wet towel and strikes him across the throat with it. THE CUSTOMER faints. THE BARBER looks at him contemptuously; abruptly raises the chair to a sitting position; puts away the razor. )
THE BARBER. So your nerve gave way, John? Your nerve gave way? ( He spreads the towel over THE CUSTOMER's face and roughly wipes away the lather. )
THE CUSTOMER. ( Beginning to come to; faintly ) Where am I?
THE BARBER. You ought to be in hell, but I guess you're still on God's good earth.
THE CUSTOMER. ( Putting his hand to his throat ) You—you didn't kill me?
THE BARBER. No. I didn't.
THE CUSTOMER. ( Standing up ) And you could have!
THE BARBER. John, when you're just about to cross the river, when your eyes are beginning to glaze and your heart's about to stop beating, you won't be nearer death than you were a minute ago!
THE CUSTOMER. Why didn't you kill me?
THE BARBER. It wouldn't bring back Jennie, would it?