But not always." "And it's not what I meant." "No, you meant to be a saint.

Many of us do." "I feel what you mean, but I have scruples." Ayre looked at him curiously.
"You're not a man of scruples really," he said; "you'll get over them." "Is that a compliment ?" "Depends on whom you ask.

You'll think of it?
Think of what you might do and be.

Now, I'm off." Stafford rose to show him out.
"I'm not sure whether I ought to thank you," he said.
"You will think of it ?" "Yes." "And you won't kill yourself without seeing me again ?" "You were afraid of that ?" "Yes.

Was I wrong ?" "No." "You won't, then, without seeing me again ?" "No; I promise." Ayre found his way downstairs, and into the street.
"It will work," he said to himself.