If civilization held no prize worth an effort, why
should I exert myself to preserve the life of a rat? Faugh! It's
sickening! I wondered why I wanted those spears. Now I know. I
have an idea I'm going to be coward enough to use one--or enough
of a philosopher."
"Paul, that isn't like you."
"On the contrary, it is consistent with my whole life. I have
never been overly keen about it. To end it in a hole like this--
well, that isn't exactly what I expected; but it is all
one--after. Understand me, Hal; I don't want to desert you;
haven't I stuck? And I would still if there were the slightest
possible chance. Where can we go? What can we do?"
There was a long silence; then Harry's voice came calmly:
"I can stay in the game. You call yourself a philosopher. I
won't quarrel about it, but the world would call you a quitter.
Whichever it is, it's not for me. I stay in the game. I'm going
to find Desiree if I can, and, by the Lord, some day I'm going to
cock my feet up on the fender at the Midlothian and make 'em open
their mouths and call me a liar!"
"A worthy ambition."
"My own. And, Paul, you can't--you're not a quitter.
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