The chair is in the veranda. 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. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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