Because, you see, your life is something which does not belong to you, but with which you are trusted.

I mean, if there is anything dangerous to be done, let some one else do it.

What is she like?
What is her name ?" "Her name is Millicent--Millicent Chyne." "And--what is she like ?" He leant back, and, interlocking his fingers, stretched his arms out with the palms of his hands outward--a habit of his when asked a question needing consideration.
"She is of medium height; her hair is brown.

Her worst enemy admits, I believe, that she is pretty.

Of course, I am convinced of it." "Of course," replied Jocelyn steadily.