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Stanley had never thought out. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. No, this was not reasonable. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Come and help me pack. Still, the respite was sufficient for Spurlock to look about for some weapon. 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. ’ Her lashes fluttered.

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