He gave way when he found I was determined, and said he would accept the services of the waiter at the inn.
"Thank you both," he said, as we rose to go.

"I have one last favor to ask--not of you, doctor, for I leave you to exercise your professional discretion, but of Mr.Holliday." His eyes, while he spoke, still rested steadily on me, and never once turned toward Arthur.

"I beg that Mr.
Holliday will not mention to any one, least of all to his father, the events that have occurred and the words that have passed in this room.

I entreat him to bury me in his memory as, but for him, I might have been buried in my grave.

I cannot give my reason for making this strange request.