‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. " "We found all his pockets empty. 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. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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