Send for Mr. She wanted to think. 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. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. There’s a hansom coming round the corner. I could not dream of loving you.
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