It isn't natural, you see." A little later he rose to go.
"By the way," he said, at the door, "there's something I meant to tell her upstairs--about a poor devil she has on her mind.

A chap named Berry--dying--lungs.

She asked me to go and see him." "Yes ?" "I found it was only a matter of days." The tragic pity in Baird's quiet voice was so deep as barely to be heard.
"So I shot him full of morphine.

He won't wake up.

Please tell her that." Tall, ungainly, motionless, he loomed there in the doorway.