And Pottiswick, of course. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. “I am not dependent upon any one. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. Not at all. 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. \" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern.
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