What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect. Me, I have a question for you first. Because of the thought of love and companionship? No. In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. " "Did I ask for it?" "Yes. " "You may go, and welcome, Madam!" rejoined Kneebone, spitefully. She called them back very soon.
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