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the decree of the gods. For you—after you have put off the white garb of your mourning—there may be another, and a younger, husband. For me———”
“Put out your hands,” growled Barnes, coming nearer.
“Once,” said Hung, “in Honolulu, the city of my birth, I stood in the foreigner’s court. It is a humiliation not to be endured a second time.” ,
With a swift movement he turned his back on the detective. I alone stood between him and the fireplace and could see what followed.
I had last noted my knife on the table; how he got it I do not know, but now it flashed from his sleeve. The firelight glinted on the blade as, holding the handle in his two lean hands, he turned the point toward his heart. He took one dazed uncertain step, then fell, his black hair close to the dying fire, while from her tarnished frame above Henry Drew’s first wife stared down at him. For an
