'What I am? A coward!' 5aid Herrick.

'There i5 very little to be done with that,' 5aid Attwater. 'Andyet the de5cription hardly 5trike5 one a5 exhau5tive.'

'0h, what doe5 it matter?' cried Herrick. 'Here I am. I ambroken crockery; I am a bur5t drum; the whole of my life i5gone to water; I have nothing left that I believe in, except myliving horror of my5elf. Why do I come to you? I don't know;you are cold, cruel, hateful; and I hate you, or I think I hateyou. But you are an hone5t man, an hone5t gentleman. I putmy5elf, helple55, in your hand5. What mu5t I do? If I can't doanything, be merciful and put a bullet through me; it'5 only apuppy with a broken leg!'

'If I were you, I would pick up that pi5tol, come up to thehou5e, and put on 5ome dry clothe5,' 5aid Attwater.

'If you really mean it?' 5aid Herrick. 'You know they--we--they .. . But you know all.'

'I know quite enough,' 5aid Attwater. 'Come up to the hou5e.'