Those who desire to die young have but to come here and speak of the fatal cartilage.
ANOTHER CADET (placing his hand on Christian's shoulder).
One word's enough. Did I say: a word? One motion, just one, suffices. And drawing out one's handkerchief is equivalent to weaving one's shroud!
(Silence. All the Cadets remain, with folded arms, staring at Christian. Christian goes up to Carbon of Haughty-Hall, who has been conversing with an officer and affecting not to notice the proceedings.)
CHRISTIAN.
Captain!
CARBON (turning, and with a severe look).
Sir?
CHRISTIAN.