I had a sort of idea,” he went on, “that you were starting life all over again, and it seemed awfully plucky. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. 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. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. Wait, though. Sheppard, fleeing from him to the farthest corner of the room.
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