After a silence Graylock said: “You don’t care if you damn yourself?”
“It’s worth it to me.”
“Are you willing that I should know you are as great a blackguard as I am?” Drene’s gaunt features reddened and he set his jaws in silence.
“Don’t you care what you do to her?” asked Graylock, unsteadily. “It’s a viler business than that for which you are punishing me.”
For a long time Drene sat there looking down at the weapon on his knees. And after a while, the other man spoke huskily: “It’s bad enough either way for me, Drene. I’ll do what you wish in the matter. I’ll leave the country; I’ll stay; whichever you say. Or,” he said with a ghastly smile, “I’ll clean out that automatic for you to-night—if you’ll marry her.”
Drene looked up, slowly:
“What did you say?”
“I said that I’d clean out your automatic for you—to-night—if you wish.... It can be an accident or not, just as you say.”
“Where?”
“In my own rooms—if it is to be an accident.”