Had either of her hands trembled, I should have grasped at the glass it held; but not a tremor shook those icy fingers, nor did her eyes wander to the right hand or to the left.

'Adelaide!' I shrieked out.

'Toss them behind you.
Let us live--live!' But she only reiterated that awful word: 'Choose!' and I dare not hesitate longer, lest I lose my chance to save her.
Groping, I touched a glass--I never knew which one--and drawing it from her fingers, I lifted it to my mouth.

Instantly her other hand rose.

'I don't know which is which, myself,' she said, and drank.