Then hurriedly he begged her to forgive him; he felt he should have looked after her better, he’d been most remiss. (1.2.21)
He merely replied, without looking at the police officer, that "a secret grief" described it well enough. The inspector then asked him peremptorily if he intended to "have another go at it." Showing more animation, Cottard said certainly not, his one wish was to be left in peace. (1.4.30)
If, as was most likely, it died out, all would be well. If not, one would know […] what steps should be taken for coping with and finally overcoming it.
The doctor opened his window […]. There lay certitude; there, in the daily round. All the rest hung on mere threads and trivial contingencies; you couldn’t waste your time on it. The thing was to do your job as it should be done. (1.5.8-9)