I had to repeat to myself all the story of his treachery to me, lashing myself into a fury against him, before I could bring myself to think with resignation of the imminent extinction of that shining light.

What a loss he would be to the world! So many delightful stories, so great a gift of manner, so immense a personal charm--all to disappear into the pit! And for what?
To put into his place a ruffian without redeeming qualities.

Was it worth while to put down Lucifer only to enthrone Beelzebub?
I could only check this doleful strain of reflection by sternly recalling myself to the real question--the state of the fortunes of me, John Martin.

And to me the revolution was necessary.

I might get the money; at least I should gain time.