’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. I would have heard her. He hated the taste of it. "But you've given me what I don't possess. Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. 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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