The end was sure, easy and honourable.

For himself--he looked at Christine.

Not all her abounding vitality, her warm, healthy body, or her overwhelming love, could give him one extra day of life, not one day.

What a fool he had been to think that she could do so! And she must sit and watch him--she, with her primitive fierceness of love, must watch him sinking, fading helplessly out of life, sight and being.
A bottle of whiskey was beside him.

During the two hours just gone he had drunk a whole pint of it.