She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. 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. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Some of the hotel guests can act as witnesses. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night.
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