“The weak limp wretch,” I heard Mr Frewen whisper.
“No, sir, you said that I was a gentleman. I am, and gentlemen cannot do such things as that.”
“Not take up a delightful life yonder?”
“No; the cost is too great. I should have to be false to my class, and to my companions in misfortune here.”
“Bah!—they are not so squeamish. They come, all of them, and are glad. You will join us?”
“No, sir, no.”
“But your fish—dying!”
“Poor things! It is a disappointment, sir; but I cannot do as you wish me to, even to save them.”
“You will not?”
“No, sir, no.”