He who for years had never once thought of death had for some time past found ideas of caution in his mind.

On two occasions recently he had shuddered at the possibility of a catastrophe.

How was it that a longing for life had come to him in his decline?
Why was it that he now wished to live?
At last with a touch of tender affection in his gaiety, he remarked: "Do you know, Marie, I think it is my thoughts of you that make me a coward.

If I've lost my bravery it's because I risk something precious when any danger arises.

Happiness has been entrusted to my charge.