But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. 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. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. Last week. I’m so glad you’re not angry.
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