There was a razor blade on the night table. She looked at it for a minute, and then she picked it up. 'To cut or not to cut," she murmured. 'That is the question..." And then she began to giggle.

What is it about Shakespeare and me this evening? - she wondered. Still smiling, she brought the knife to her Radial Artery. Back and forth, not up and down - she reminded herself.

Just as she was about to begin cutting, someone knocked on the door. 'Miss Smith! Miss Smith! Are you ...