'Can you do anything with me ?' Attwater read his face attentively.
'It would depend a good deal upon what you are,' said he.
'What I am?
A coward!' said Herrick.
'There is very little to be done with that,' said Attwater.

'And yet the description hardly strikes one as exhaustive.' 'Oh, what does it matter ?' cried Herrick.

'Here I am.

I am broken crockery; I am a burst drum; the whole of my life is gone to water; I have nothing left that I believe in, except my living horror of myself.
Why do I come to you?
I don't know; you are cold, cruel, hateful; and I hate you, or I think I hate you.

But you are an honest man, an honest gentleman.