Whenever he felt that warm fluid on his tongue he was certain of his doom, and the horror of slowly dying oppressed him, angered him.
It begot in him a desire to end it all.

He had a hatred of suicide; but there were other ways.

"I'll have your life, or you'll have mine.

I'm not to be played with," he added.
The sentences were broken by coughing, and his handkerchief was wet and red.
"It is no concern of the world," answered Shangois, stretching up his throat, for he still felt the pressure of Ferrol's fingers--"only of the girl and her brother.

The girl--I saved her once before from your friend Vanne Castine, and I will save her from you--but, yes! It is nothing to the world, to Bonaventure, that you are a robber; it is everything to her.