Dorian folded up the papers which he had been told to keep and put them in his pocket.

The rest of the package he returned to the drawer.

He lowered the lamp again.

Then he sat down and watched.

It seemed it would not be long for the end.
"Dorian." "Yes, Uncle Zed, can I do anything for you ?" "No"-- barely above a whisper--"nothing else matters--you're a good boy--God bless you." The dying man lay very still.