Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. Such was his fury, that if he had not been restrained by the presence of the two turnkeys, he might perhaps have anticipated the course of justice, by laying violent hands upon his victim. But the cases were not identical. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. 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. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room.
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