He went on muttering, half to himself: “We’re of the same breed—pariahs; fortunately, pariahs don’t last long,... like the wild creatures who never die natural deaths,... old age is one of the curses they can safely discount,... and so can we, Scarlett, so can we.... For you’ll be mauled by a lion or kicked into glory by a horse or an ox or an ass,... and I’ll fall off a balloon,... or the camel will give me tetanus, or the elephant will get me in one way or another,... or something....”
Again he twisted around to look at me. “Funny, isn’t it?” 189
“Rather funny,” I said, listlessly.
He leaned over, pulled another cigarette from the pink packet, broke a match from the card, and lighted it.
“I feel better,” he observed.
I expressed sleepy gratification.
“Oh yes, I’m much better. This isn’t a bad life, is it?”
“Oh no!” I said, sarcastically.
“No, it’s all right, and we’ve got to pull the poor old governor through and give a jolly good show here and start the whole country toward the tent door! Eh?”
“Certainly. Don’t let me detain you.”