“‘Because, upon the whole, I do not care to be the instrument of your self-destruction.’ “‘Don’t be a fool!’ he retorted. ‘Speak honestly, and say that because of a little moral shrinking on your part, you prefer to leave a human being to a death of agony. I don’t like physical pain. I am like a woman about it, but it is better than hanging, or life-imprisonment, or any jury finding.’ “I became exhortatory. “‘Why not face it like a man and take your chances? Who knows—’ “‘I have had my chances,’ he returned. ‘I have squandered more chances than most men ever lay eyes on, and I don’t care. If I had the opportunity, I’d squander them again. It is the only thing chances are made for.’ “‘What, a scoundrel you are!’ I exclaimed. “‘Well, I don’t know,’ he answered; ‘there have been worse men. I never said a harsh word to a woman, and I never hit a man when he was down—’ “I blushed. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to hit you,’ I responded. “He took no notice. “‘I like my wife,’ he said. ‘She is a good woman, and I’d do a good deal to keep her and the children from knowing the truth. Perhaps I’d kill myself even if I didn’t want to. I don’t know, but I am tired—damned tired.’ “‘And yet you deserted her.’ “‘I did. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. If I were free to go back to her to-morrow, unless I was ill and wanted nursing, I’d see that she had grown shapeless, and that her hands were coarse.’ He stretched out his own, which were singularly white and delicate. ‘I believe I’d leave her in a week,’ he said. “Then with an eager movement he pointed to my bag. “‘That is the ending of the difficulty,’ he added. ‘Otherwise I swear that before the train gets to London, I will swallow this stuff and die like a rat.’ “‘I admit your right to die in any manner you choose; but I don’t see that it is my place to assist you. It is an ugly job.” “‘So am I,’ he retorted, grimly. ‘At any rate, if you leave the train with that package in your bag it will be cowardice—sheer cowardice. And for the sake of your cowardice you will damn me to this.’ He touched the vial. “‘It won’t be pleasant,’ I said, and we were silent.