might be killed—and then— "Well, I've done my best, anyhow," he said to himself—and himself answered him: "Liar—you have not done your best! You will have to eat your lie. Yes—though it will smash your life and ruin you socially and professionally. You will have to' tell him you lied—and tell him why. You will never let him go to South Africa without telling him the truth—and you know it."
"Well—you know best, I suppose," he said to himself.
******
"But are you perfectly certain?"
"Perfectly. I tell you, man, you're sound's a bell, and a fine fathom of a young man ye are, too. Certain? Losh, man—ye can call in the whole College of Physeecians in consultation, an' I'll wager me professional reputation they'll endorse me opeenion. Yer hairt's as sound's a roach. T'other man must ha' been asleep when ye consulted him. Ye'll mak' a fine soldier, my lad."
"I think not," said the Lover—and he went out from the presence. This time he reeled like a man too drunk to care how drunk he looks.
