‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. 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. "You're in danger. But eventually Spurlock laughed.
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