But I liked to say it. Sections and pages had been pasted together, and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. 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 bad luck to go to Canongate. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. "I would sacrifice all my fortune—all my hopes —to liberate him.
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