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sat down close to her. “Isn't that rather nice?” he asked, putting a glass into her hand. “Come on, drink up. After all, the evening is still very young and we might be here for days. We ought to get to know each other.”
     Stella put the glass down on the table beside her. “I must go,” she said. “Really, Mr. Merlin, I can't stay with you. It's—it's not right.”
     “Can't you call me Denny? Isn't this rather thrilling to meet as we have and to be sheltering from a hurricane in someone else's house, before a fire, like this? Listen, Stella, it is like a fairy tale. It can't be treated like any other day.”
     “Oh, I know, Denny, but I shouldn't really be here. Gerda will be wondering—”
     He slid his arm along the back of the settee behind her head and leant over her. “Do you mind what Gerda's thinking?” he asked. “Can't you let time stand still for an hour? Let me tell you that I love you. That you are the most lovely thing in this ugly world. You make this hurricane seem thin and pale beside your beauty. Look at me, Stella, can't we go into fairyland together just for an hour? Can't we forget that you are you and I am I? Won't you leave this world and come with me?” He drew her towards him, and pale, almost fainting with fear, Stella relaxed against him.
     Denny touched her lips with his and then, as he felt them yield to him, he caught her to him urgently. He was deaf to the storm raging outside and blind to reason. Stella affected him like no other woman had ever affected him. He slid his hand into her open wrap and eased it off her shoulders.
     In the firelight he could see her whiteness and he drew her down on the settee, pushing her back so that he was leaning right over her. He lowered his face against the coolness of her breasts and he groaned softly with the ecstasy of the moment.
     Gerda, coming into the room like a dark shadow, stole up behind them. The firelight reflected in her fixed staring eyes, and Stella, looking over Denny's shoulder, bit back a scream of fear as she saw Gerda's hand suddenly sweep up, holding something that glittered.
     Stella tried to push Denny away, but already the glittering thing was coming down swiftly and Denny relaxed limply on her with a choking cough. With a wild scream, Stella pushed him on to the floor and scrambled up.
     “What have you done?” she screamed at Gerda. “What have you done?” She stumbled over to the lamp and turned it on.
     Gerda was standing over Denny, her face white and hard. She said, without looking at Stella, “Shut up! Don't make a sound.”
     Denny rolled over on his side and struggled up on his elbow. A long, thin-bladed table-knife was driven deeply into his neck. Stella could see the silver handle protruding, and she pressed her hands against her mouth in horror.
     Blood began to flow over Denny's white shirt and run on to the carpet. He touched the handle with his hand as if he couldn't believe that this had happened to him. He said in a very low, choked voice, “Did you do it?” to Gerda.
     Gerda didn't say anything. She was watching the red ribbon running on to the cream carpet.
     “Couldn't you have left me alone?” Denny said. “My God, I was a fool to have had anything to do with you two. It was the money, I suppose. I didn't think you were as bad as that. Do you think it will do you any good? Don't stand there looking at me. Get me a doctor. Do you want me to bleed to death?”
     “Yes,” Stella said wildly, “get him a doctor, for God's sake!”
     Gerda just said, “Shut up!” and drew away from Denny with a little grimace of disgust.
     “Do you want me to die?” Denny said, panic coming into his eyes. “Help me! Don't stand staring. Help me, you bitch! Can't you see I'm bleeding to death?”
     Stella threw herself on the settee and began to scream wildly.