I remember my old life, and I remember you.

I saw how, one day, you would read in the papers: 'A German carrier, named Waldo Farber, was killed through falling from his wagon, being instantly crushed under the wheel.

Deceased was supposed to have been drunk at the time of the accident.' There are those notices in the paper every month.
I sat up, and I took the brandy-flask out of my pocket, and I flung it as far as I could into the dark water.

The Hottentot boy ran down to see if he could catch it; it had sunk to the bottom.

I never drank again.
But, Lyndall, sin looks much more terrible to those who look at it than to those who do it.