Drene looked up, slowly:

"What did you say?"

"I said that I'd clean out your automatic for you--to-night--if you
wish. . . . It can be an accident or not, just as you say."

"Where?"

"In my own rooms--if it is to be an accident."

"Do you offer--"

"Yes; if you'll marry her afterwards. If you say you will I'll take
your word."

"And then you'll be out of your misery, you damned coward!"

"God knows. . . . But I think not," said Graylock, under his
breath.

Drene twisted the automatic, rose and continued to twirl it,
considering. Presently he began to pace the floor, no longer
noticing the other man. Once his promenade brought him up facing the
wall where a calendar hung.

He stood for a while looking at it absently. After a few moments he
stepped nearer, detached the sheet for the present month, then one
by one tore off the remaining sheets until he came to the month
marked December, Graylock watching him all the while.