"For Christ's sake!" he cried. "What do you care?"

"I--I care," she stammered--"for Christ's sake ... And yours!"

Things went dark before her eyes.... She opened them after a while
on the sofa where he had carried her. He was standing looking down
at her. ... After a long while the ghost of a smile touched her
lips. In his haunted gaze there was no response. But he said in an
altered, unfamiliar voice: "I'll go if you say so. I'll do all
that's in me to do. ... Will you be there--for the first day or
two?"

"Yes.... All day long.... Every day if you want me. Do you?"

"Yes.... But God knows what I may do to you.... There'll be somebody
to--watch me--won't there?... I don't know what may happen to you
or to myself.... I'm in a bad way, Miss Erith... I'm in a very bad
way."

"I know," she murmured.

He said with an almost childish directness: "Do men always live
through such cures?... I don't see how I can live through it."

She rose from the sofa and stood beside him, feeling still dizzy,
still tremulous and lacking strength.

"Let us win through," she said, not looking at him. "I think you
will suffer more than I shall. A little more.... Because I had
rather feel pain than give it--rather suffer than look on suffering....