"I have always," he went on, "dreaded this disease, and when I was hale
and strong I prepared accordingly. I have no fears; any postponement
is due to the fact that I want to see my lawyer again and be at home.
Otherwise I should take a dose to-day.
"The greatest drawback to suicide," he continued, with a whimsical
smile, "is not want of decision, but a dislike of giving trouble. If
I were to commit suicide now, it would have to be done in a hotel,
and that isn't fair to the hotel. Nor should I care to be found lying
in a field: that would mean a shock to someone and too much newspaper
squalor after. Also a public mortuary. In any well-organized State
there would, of course, be a great pool of quicklime into which, after
taking poison, we could roll; but lacking that we must behave ourselves
as best we can. By waiting till I get to Canada, I can complete my
will, fold my arms, and die like a gentleman in bed."
"While admiring," I replied, "your determination and nice taste, I
would remind you that next spring the nightingales will be singing
again. You might still be alive and well enough to hear them."
"I refuse," he said, "to linger on, a wreck."
And so passed Mr. Adrian Measure from my life.