DO WE TRULY DIE?
"I have indicated my view at any rate," said Mr. Huss. "I suppose now Sir Alpheus is here———"
"He isn't here," said Dr. Barrack neatly. "He telegraphs to say that he is held up, and will come by the next train. So you get a reprieve, Mr. Huss."
"In that case I shall go on talking."
"You had better go to bed."
"No. I couldn't lie quiet." And Mr. Huss proceeded to name his guests to Dr. Barrack, who nodded shortly to each of them in turn, and said: "Pleased-t-meet you." His face betrayed no excess of pleasure. His eye was hard. He remained standing, as if waiting for them to display symptoms.
"Our discussion has wandered far," said Sir Eliphaz. "Our original business here was to determine the future development of Woldingstanton School, which we think should be made more practical and technical than hitherto, and less concerned with history and philosophy than it has been under Mr. Huss. (Won't you sit down, Doctor?)"
The doctor sat down, still watching Sir Eliphaz with hard intelligence.
"Well, we have drifted from that," Sir Eliphaz continued.
"Not so far as you may think," said Mr. Huss.
"At any rate Mr. Huss has been regaling us with a discourse upon the miseries of life, how we are all eaten up by parasites and utterly wretched, and how everything is wretched and this an accursed world ruled either by a cruel God or a God so careless as to be practically no God at all."
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