WHISTON. Funny thing. As far as I'm concerned I can quite imagine myself just snuffing out. You can put one word on my grave, if I have one—"Napu." But as for John, no. I want something else. Something about Death being scored off after all.
DODD. I know. "O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?"
WHISTON. Just that. Mind you, I don't think I'm afraid of Death. I don't want to get killed. But if I saw him coming I think I could smile, and feel that after all he wasn't getting much of a bargain. But the idea of his getting old John sticks in my gullet. I believe in all sorts of things for him. Resurrection and life and Heaven, and all that.
DODD. What do you think about it, Corporal?
LANCE-CORPORAL. Same as Mr. Whiston, sir.
WHISTON. But what about presentiments?
DODD. Oh, I don't know. Funny thing; but all through this fortnight I've been absolutely certain that I was not for it.
LANCE-CORPORAL. Beg pardon, sir, we noticed that, sir!
WHISTON. Well, it's practically over now.
DODD. I'm not so sure. I'm not in a funk, you know. It's simply that I don't feel so sure.