Basil.
[With a groan of self-contempt.] I tried to kill myself in the night.
John.
H'm!
[He takes the cartridges out and puts the revolver
in his pocket.
Basil.
[Bitterly.] Oh, don't be afraid, I haven't got the pluck.... I was afraid to go on living. I thought if I killed myself it would be a reparation for her death. I went down to the river, and I walked along the tow-path to the same spot—but I couldn't do it. The water looked so black and cold and pitiless. And yet she did it so easily. She just walked along and threw herself in. [A pause.] Then I came back, and I thought I'd shoot myself.
John.
D'you think that would have done any one much good?
Basil.