It was not my heart, it was not my happiness, it was life itself that was involved.

I could not lose her.

I said so, and stood repeating it.

And then, like one in a dream, I moved to the window, put forth my hand to open the casement, and thrust it through the pane.

The blood spurted from my wrist; and with an instantaneous quietude and command of myself, I pressed my thumb on the little leaping fountain, and reflected what to do.