Somehow all the hardness had gone out of him though the resolution remained.

He put a hand on Guy's shoulder, and gently shook him.
"Don't do it, boy! Don't do it! Pull yourself together for heaven's sake! Drink--do anything--but this! You'll want to shoot yourself afterwards." But Guy was utterly broken, his self-control beyond recovery.

The only response he made was to feel for and blindly grip the hand that held him.
So for a space they remained, while the anguish possessed him and slowly passed.

Then, with the quiescence of complete exhaustion, he suffered Burke's ministrations in utter silence.
Half-an hour later he lay in a dead sleep, motionless as a stone image, while the man who dragged him from his hell rested upon two chairs and grimly reviewed the problem which he had created for himself.

There was no denying the fact that young Guy had been a thorn in his side almost ever since his arrival in the country.
The pity of it was that he possessed such qualities as should have lifted him far above the crowd.