"We shall drink it to the bitter end." "Why not?
It's livelier in a fight! Eh?
I strike him, he strikes me, and you don't even know how the thing is done.

It's just as if you don't die at all." "No, you shouldn't do it," said Werner, and turned to Yanson.

"Why don't you smoke, friend ?" Suddenly Yanson's wizened face became wofully wrinkled, as if somebody had pulled strings which set all the wrinkles in motion.

And, as in a dream, he began to whimper, without tears, in a dry, strained voice: "I don't want to smoke.

Aha! aha! aha! Why should I be hanged?
Aha! aha! aha!" They began to bustle about him.