She looked up at him and tried to speak, struggling against the sobs that
shook her.

"I--I came here to--to kill you--only I can't do it."

"To kill me!" he said, after a pause. In spite of the fact that he had
half divined her intention, the words shocked him. Whatever else may be
said of him, he did not lack courage, his alarm was not of a physical
nature. Mingled with it were emotions he himself did not understand,
caused by the unwonted sight of her loss of self-control, of her anger,
and despair. "Why did you want to kill me?"

And again he had to wait for an answer.

"Because you've spoiled my life--because I'm going to have a child!"

"What do you mean? Are you?... it can't be possible."

"It is possible, it's true--it's true. I've waited and waited, I've
suffered, I've almost gone crazy--and now I know. And I said I'd kill you
if it were so, I'd kill myself--only I can't. I'm a coward." Her voice
was drowned again by weeping.

A child! He had never imagined such a contingency! And as he leaned back
against the desk, his emotions became chaotic. The sight of her, even as
she appeared crazed by anger, had set his passion aflame--for the
intensity and fierceness of her nature had always made a strong appeal to
dominant qualities in Ditmar's nature. And then--this announcement!
Momentarily it turned his heart to water. Now that he was confronted by
an exigency that had once vicariously yet deeply disturbed him in a