"I don't care what it is," breathed Zora, her arms around his neck.
"All I care about, darling, is you."
"This afternoon," Robin went on, "he seemed to imply----"
"That all three of us," smiled Zora, "might celebrate tonight."
And now Anton stood before them. He spoke purringly.
"And so we shall, my dear," he said.
Had the hotel walls caved in, the two lovers could have suffered no
greater consternation. They sprang to their feet. They looked wildly
about. They stared at each other in bewilderment.
And all the while, Anton's voice purred softly on from his invisibility:
"It is no use, my dear. You cannot see me. Nor will you ever see me
again. Nor you, either, Robin, my boy. The experiment was a perfect
success. Did I not say it would astound you?"
* * * * *
Frantic with fear--fear of they knew not what--both rushed for the
door. But Anton got there first.
And now they saw, suspended in mid-air, a revolver menacing them.
Robin lunged for it desperately--but too late. The revolver spoke,
once, and he sank to the floor. Zora screamed, her eyes widening
with horror upon his twitching body. She clutched at her throat. She
screamed again, insanely, and reached out for the door. Then the
revolver spoke a second time, and she collapsed beside her lover.
Anton knelt beside them and watched them die. They were an
unconscionably long time about it, he thought.
The telephone began ringing. That would be the management. Somebody, of
course, had heard the shots and Zora's piercing screams.
Anton, still kneeling beside their bodies, watched their blood flow
together and stain the rug with a grotesque pattern.
The telephone continued to ring. Suddenly there came a sharp knock at
the door. That would be the house detective.
Anton made sure they were both quite dead; and then he rose and crossed
the room and sat down upon the couch.
He had one shot left in his revolver. And--just as the door burst
violently open--he sent it neatly through his heart.