In my best days I should never have faced a jump like that in cold blood," said the rector.
"I've got no little belongings of wife or child to make a prudent man of me, you see," returned the surgeon.

"At worst it's but a knock on the head and a longish snooze." The rector fancied he felt his wife's shudder shake the carriage, but the sensation was of his own producing.

The careless defiant words wrought in him an unaccountable kind of terror: it seemed almost as if they had rushed of themselves from his own lips.
"Take care, my dear sir," he said solemnly.

"There may be something to believe, though you don't believe it." "I must take the chance," replied Faber.

"I will do my best to make calamity of long life, by keeping the rheumatic and epileptic and phthisical alive, while I know how.