Lilas ordered her trunks sent down, paid her bill at the hotel, and then sought the nearest pawn shop.  She had some difficulty in buying a revolver, but, succeeding at length, she returned to her room to arrange the final details of her plan.

That she had fixed upon Melcher rather than upon Bob or Merkle or some one else, can be explained only through the vagaries of a disordered mind, for, although the girl did not realize it, she was by this time quite out of her head.  A desire as keen and as compelling as hunger clamored for Max’s death, and it did not occur to her to resist it.  Yet Lilas had no intention of sacrificing herself; much of the pleasure of the deed, she reflected, would result from a successful “get away,” and therefore she craftily arranged her escape.  She would drive to Tony’s, so ran her plan, tell her taxi-cab driver to wait, then enter the place quietly and swiftly.  Max would be stretched out in one of the chairs and quite unaware of her approach until she bent over him; he would gain no hint of her design until he felt her weapon against his body.  Such a simple mode of procedure could not fail, and—­this ferocious longing to kill would be satisfied.  In the confusion following the shot, Lilas reasoned, it would be easy to slip out of the place, step into her taxi and drive to the station.  Once she was lost in that crowded place who could apprehend her?  In half an hour she would be out of the state.

There still remained some time to wait and, to guard herself against a diminution of the drug’s effect, she took another liberal dose.  After a time this resulted in an added intensity of concentration, an even greater mental activity and strength of purpose.  She felt equal to anything, afraid of nothing in heaven or earth.

For fear that Max might anticipate his regular time of arrival she again telephoned to Tony, but, learning that he had not done so, she gossiped briefly with the barber, discussing the raid on the Metropolitan, the misfortunes that had overtaken their mutual friends, and other topics of interest.  She realized from Tony’s laughter that she was talking with unusual wit and brilliance.

Her buoyancy was becoming a trifle oppressive now, so she rang off, and a few moments later discovered that her last inhalation of the drug was beginning to affect her heart.  Before long its palpitation had become unpleasant, though not alarming as yet and probably no more than a passing phase.  However, since ample time remained, she decided to lie down.  The reclining position gave her some relief, but that odd, nightmarish over-stimulation continued; in fact, it increased until it became almost unbearable.  She closed her eyes only to behold a whirling confusion of shapes and visions.  Gradually her mind became peopled by distorted fancies.  The moments crept on and the phantasmagoria continued...  Lilas realized at last that she was ill.  She was confused, hysterical, wretched.  She tried to rise, but failed...  She found herself swimming through space; blinding lights and choking vapors enveloped her.  She noted with a dull sense of alarm that her heart was skipping; this frightened her into calling for help, but her voice sounded weak and unreal...  Everything was unreal; objects in the room were distorted and queer...  What was it that so terrified her? ...  Was it death?