"Well, then, the hand which you say you held was nerves?"
"Perhaps. But that is just it. I must know, or at least try to know. It is inevitable. We can't stop now, Val, whether we are standing on the threshold of good, or evil, or—nothing at all. We have got to go on. Besides, you and I have not effected an exchange."
"Of souls? No. Perhaps it is an imbecile proceeding to try."
"No matter."
"Or a dangerous proceeding."
"You are temporizing, and the night is running away as hard as it can.
Come, now, will you do what I want—yes or no?"
After a long hesitation, Valentine slowly answered:
"Yes."
And absurdly, as he said it, he felt like a man who tosses the dice for life or death.