“This is mockery,” I replied, “you devote yourself⁠—you, the adored brother of Idris, the being, of all the world contains, dearest to our hearts⁠—you devote yourself to an early death. I would have prevented this; my death would be a small evil⁠—or rather I should not die; while you cannot hope to escape.”

“As to the likelihood of escaping,” said Adrian, “ten years hence the cold stars may shine on the graves of all of us; but as to my peculiar liability to infection, I could easily prove, both logically and physically, that in the midst of contagion I have a better chance of life than you.