I am a proud, lustful, greedy man. I have loved authority too much. These people are martyrs—protecting me with their own lives. They deserve a martyr to care for them—not a man like me, who loves all the wrong things. Perhaps I had better escape—if I tell people how it is over here, perhaps they will send a good man with a fire of love …’ As usual his self-confession dwindled away into the practical problem—what am I to do?
