"You're a brave man. 'Tisn't many would do so much as that, even for a brother."
"Do as you would be done by covers it. 'Tis a disgrace to the living that dying men should suffer worse terror and pain than dying beasts. Terror they must, perhaps, since they can think; but pain—no need for that."
"I'll bless you for this to my own last day," she said. She rose then and fetched a chair. She held Nathan's hand. He was insensible and breathing faintly but easily.
Suddenly Mrs. Lintern got up and hastened across the room to the medicine bottle.
"We must think of that," she said.
"Leave it. He's had enough."
"He's had too much," she answered. "There's the danger. When that woman comes back she'll know to half a drop what's gone. She guessed the wish in me to do this very thing two days ago. She read it in my eyes, I believe. And God knows the will was in my heart; but I hadn't the courage."
"Let her find out."
"No—not her. Some—perhaps many—wouldn't matter; but not her."
Priscilla took the bottle, lifted it and let it fall upon the floor. It broke, and the medicine was spilled.