She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. . I tried to jump, but he increased the speed. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us. . 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.
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