"Drugs are better than that." "There at any rate is sleep," repeated the stranger, not heeding him.
Isbister looked at him.

"It's not a cert, you know," he remarked.
"There's a cliff like that at Lulworth Cove--as high, anyhow--and a little girl fell from top to bottom.

And lives to-day--sound and well." "But those rocks there ?" "One might lie on them rather dismally through a cold night, broken bones grating as one shivered, chill water splashing over you.

Eh ?" Their eyes met.

"Sorry to upset your ideals," said Isbister with a sense of devil-may-careish brilliance.