"Are you done, Terence?"

This time Vance was shocked into wide-eyed attention. The voice of
Elizabeth was hard as iron. It brought a corresponding stiffening of
Terence.

"I'm done," he said, with a certain ring to his voice that Vance was glad
to hear.

It brought a flush into the pale cheeks of Elizabeth.

"It is easy to see that you're proud of what you have done, Terence."

"Yes," he answered with sudden defiance, "I am proud. It's the best thing
I've ever done. I regret only one part of it."

"And that?"

"That my bullet didn't kill him!"

Elizabeth looked down and tapped the folded paper against her fingertips.
Whether it was mere thoughtfulness or a desire to veil a profound emotion
from Terence, her brother could not tell. But he knew that something of
importance was in the air. He scented it as clearly as the smoke of a
forest fire.

"I thought," she said in her new and icy manner, "that that would be your
one regret."