"If you say so. But what is coming to her, Drene?"

"Continue to guess. But I know you. It's yourself you're sorry for
and what you'll have to endure--live through. That's what you can't
stand, and remain the sleek, self-satisfied rat you are. No, it will
make earth a living hell for you; never a second, day or night, will
you be able to forget--if you really do love her. . . . And I
believe you do--I don't understand how a thing like you can
love--but it seems it can."

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."