It is useless for you to speak; you may pity me, but you cannot but despise me.
Believe me, that death when it comes will be to me a happy release indeed from the shame and misery I feel." Then, turning, he left the girl without another word, and went about his work.

The Doctor had, just before going up to take his place on the roof, come across him.
"Come in here, my dear Bathurst," he said, seizing his arm and dragging him into the room which had been given up to him for his drugs and surgical appliances.
"Let me give you a strong dose of ammonia and ginger; you want a pickup I can see by your face." "I want it, Doctor, but I will not take it," Bathurst said.

"That is one thing I have made up my mind to.

I will take no spirits to create a courage that I do not possess." "It is not courage; it has nothing to do with courage," the Doctor said angrily.

"It is a simple question of nerves, as I have told you over and over again." "Call it what you like, Doctor, the result is precisely the same.