growing on me. Intuition, perhaps."

"Intuition of what?"

"I can't tell you. But I ask you not to go."

"You were going if you'd won the toss?"

"I know."

"Then your growing intuition is only because I won it. Hanged if
I don't think you want to funk me, old man!"

"I couldn't do that. But it's different me going and you going.
I've got nothing to live for. Don't think I'm maudlin, or any rot
of that sort; but you know all about the past. I've never
mentioned it to you, and, of course, you haven't to me; and I never
should have. But I will now. I loved Mary with all my heart and
soul, Tom. She didn't know how much, and probably I didn't either.
But that's done, and no man on earth rejoices in her great happiness
more than I do. And no man on earth is going to be a better or a
truer friend to you and her than, please God, I shall be. But that
being so, can't you see the rest? My life ended in a way when the
dream of my life ended. I attach no importance to living for
itself, and if anything final happened to me it wouldn't leave a
blank anywhere. You're different. In sober honesty you oughtn't
to run into any needless danger--real or imaginary. I'm thinking
of Mary only when I say that--not you."

"But I deny the danger."