"Better than well. I want for nothing."
"Is your fire kept up all night?"
"Esther, I have not come to requiring a night nurse yet. My fire goes out in the early hours before the dawn."
"The coldest part of the twenty-four hours. Brother Jerome, you must give up visiting in East London at present."
"No, not while I can crawl. You forget that on a certain night I surrendered my body as well as my spirit to the service of comfort. While I can comfort others I will. There is nothing else left to me."
"Then, sir, you will die—you will deliberately kill yourself."
"No, I tried that once. I won't again. Esther, what is the matter? You are a good girl. It is a mistake for you to waste your pity on me."
"You must forgive me, sir. Pity comes to one unbidden. Pity—and—and sympathy. If you get worse, I shall leave my situation and come home and nurse you."
"Then you will indeed kill me. You will take away my last hope. My one goblet of new wine will be denied me. Then I shall truly die. Esther, what is your budget of news? How is my wife? Begin—go on—tell me everything."