But he was not afraid of death.

If nobody would help, he would go on alone.
Dawes had been driven to the extremity of life, until he was afraid.

He could go to the brink of death, he could lie on the edge and look in.
Then, cowed, afraid, he had to crawl back, and like a beggar take what offered.

There was a certain nobility in it.

As Clara saw, he owned himself beaten, and he wanted to be taken back whether or not.