With a desperate wrench she tore free of him. They stood, panting, watching each other for a full minute. Then her grey eyes dilated with horror, for he slowly took a pistol from his pocket, his near-set black eyes, all bloodshot, fastened on her.
“You listen to me,” he said brokenly, his great chest heaving with every word,—“I want you because I can’t live without you.... Will you marry me?”
“No!”
“If you don’t,” he said, “I’ll blow my brains out in your face.”
There was a terrible silence. Then he said:
“If you leave this room I’ll kill myself.... It’s up to you, now.”
Another silence.
“Well, why don’t you go?” he said.
“I—am going.” She picked up the suitcase and make-up box. Watching him, she began to move slowly toward the door—passed him where he was standing, slowly, never taking her eyes off him.
She reached the door.