"I want to ask you something," he said, "if I may interrupt you."
"What is it, Louis?"
"May I draw up a chair?"
"Why—if you wish. Is there anything I can do for you? "—closing her book.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Shiela?"
A tinge of colour came into her cheeks.
"Thank you," she said in curt negation.
"Are you quite sure?"
"Quite. What do you mean?"
"There is one thing I might do for your sake," he smiled—"blow my bally brains out."