There is one child, a girl, a freckle-faced mite just like her mother, and another is coming.’ “‘She knows nothing of this affair?’ “‘Not a blamed thing. She is the kind of woman who is good because she can’t help herself. She enjoys it. I never did. My mother is different too. She would die if other people knew of this; my wife would die if she knew of it herself. Well, I got tired, and I wanted money, so I left her and went to Dublin. I changed my name and got a clerkship in a shipping-office. My wife thinks I went to America to get work, and if she never hears of me she’ll probably think no worse. I did intend going to America, but somehow I didn’t. I got in with a man who signed somebody’s name to a cheque and got me to present it. Then we quarrelled about the money; the man threw the job on me, and the affair came out. But before they arrested me, I ran him down and shot him. I was ridding the world of a damned traitor.’ “He raised the shade with a nervous hand; but the sun flashed into his eyes, and he lowered it. “‘I suppose I’d hang for it,’ he said. ‘There isn’t much doubt of that. If I waited, I’d hang for it, but I am not going to wait. I am going to die.’ “‘And how?’ “‘Before this train reaches London,’ he replied. ‘I am a dead man. There are two ways. I might say three, except that a pitch from the carriage might mean only a broken leg. But there is this—’ He drew a vial from his pocket and held it to the light. It contained an ounce or so of carbolic acid. “‘One of the most corrosive of irritants,’ I observed. “‘And there is—your package.’ “My first impulse was to force the vial from him. He was a slight man, and I could have overcome him with but little exertion. But the exertion I did not make. I should as soon have thought, when my rational humour reasserted itself, of knocking a man down and robbing him of his watch. The acid was as exclusively his property as the clothes he wore, and equally his life was his own. Had he declared his intention to hurl himself from the window, I might not have made way for him, but I should certainly not have obstructed his passage. “But the morphine was mine, and that I should assist him was another matter, so I said: “‘The package belongs to me.’ “‘And you will not exchange?’ “‘Certainly not.’ “He answered, almost angrily: “‘Why not be reasonable? You admit that I am in a mess of it?’ “‘Readily.’ “‘You also admit that my life is morally my own?’ “‘Equally.’ “‘That its continuance could in no wise prove to be of benefit to society?’ “‘I do.’ “‘That for all connected with me it is better that I should die unknown and under an assumed name?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘Then you admit also that the best I can do is to kill myself before reaching London?’ “‘Perhaps.’ “‘So you will leave me the morphine when you get off at Leicester?’ “‘No.’ “He struck the window-sill impatiently with the palm of his hand. “‘And why not?’ “I hesitated an instant.