You had better go home." He had regained control over himself, although his features still worked and his eyes were bloodshot.

Indeed, he had such a look of suffering that I should have been sorry for him no matter how much I hated him, and now, curiously enough, my hatred seemed to have passed away.
"What are you going to do ?" I asked.
"Send you home," he replied.
"But you are coming with me ?" "No.

I shall not trouble Aghadoe any more by my presence.

You will be quite safe with the Chauffeur." "But what are you going to do ?" "I am not going to cut my throat, if that's what you are afraid of.

I am going to--console myself as soon as I can." I did not dare ask him how.