That's the worst of it."
Raffles smiled as he secured a regular puttee of dust-sheeting.
No blood was coming through.
"I don't agree, Bunny," said he. "It's quite the best of it, if
you ask me."
"What, that he should die the death?"
"Why not?"
And Raffles stared me out with a hard and merciless light in his
clear blue eyes - a light that chilled the blood.
"If it's a choice between his life and our liberty, you're entitled
to your decision and I'm entitled to mine, and I took it before I
bound him as I did," said Raffles. "I'm only sorry I took so much
trouble if you're going to stay behind and put him in the way of
releasing himself before he gives up the ghost. Perhaps you will
go and think it over while I wash my bags and dry 'em at the
gas stove. It will take me at least an hour, which will just give
me time to finish the last volume of Kinglake."
Long before he was ready to go, however, I was waiting in the hall,
clothed indeed, but not in a mind which I care to recall. Once or
twice I peered into the dining-room where Raffles sat before the
stove, without letting him hear me.
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