Her voice became louder, struggling in hiccoughed gasps.
"Oh help me, God! Do not turn your eyes away from me, for I must destroy the demon that was milked into me; and yes, myself, for letting it be within me!"
She lifted her clenched hands into the air and Lloyd finally saw what she was holding. A shaft of light broke the tranquil conformity of darkness and he knew that it could be nothing else but a dagger.
He stepped into the moonlight and looked don as he heard her hurl out some more desperate words.
"Oh God, do not anger at the taking of my own life. Forgive me, Lord, and accept my spirit!" she announced.
She plunged the dagger deep into her own chest and pulled it down through to her belly. Her twinging body dropped to the ground. While in weak convulsions she thrust the dagger to its limit, then lay motionless. Lloyd dropped his glass, its breaking sounding like a the chorus of mourning angels, and he looked upon the scene, in horror and breathed out a word as his eyes were enveloped in tears.
"NO!" was all that he said, and he sank down to his knees and clasped his hands.
Her light and silky gown was dyed in the warm scarlet of her own blood flowing, steadily, from her heart.
Lloyd prayed. He could do nothing to save her. By the time that he realized her intentions, it was too late. On the terrace tiles, he prostrated himself to the great, true and living God. He prayed for forgiveness, for not helping her, and then prayed to God to accept the girl's spirit and forgive her for her act.
Inside the mansion, many guests waited for their sovereign to make the first toast of the evening, while Lloyd made his own salute to the girl, whose name he did not know, that he watched die this night.