" "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. Then he sensed the trap. The tired woman looked quietly at her. Twenty guineas, mind. He strangled the infant, which slipped out of his hands and screamed. She had agonized over it for weeks. 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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