"Yes," she said firmly, "and down in your soul, Braden, you believe it too. We all believe it, even the scientists who scoff. We can't help believing it. It is that which makes good men and women of us, which keeps us as children to the end. It isn't honour or nobility of character that makes us righteous, but the fear of God. It isn't death that we dread. We shrink from the answer to the question we've asked all through life. Can you answer that question now?" "Of course not," he said, "nor can I solve the riddle of life. That is the great mystery. Death is simple. We know why we die but we don't know why we live." "The same mystery that precedes life also follows it," she said stubbornly. "The greatest scientist in the world was once a lifeless atom. He acknowledges that, doesn't he? So, my friend, there is something even vaster than the greatest of all intelligences, and that is ignorance. But we are wasting time. I have told you everything. You know just what I've been through. I don't ask for your sympathy, for you would be quite right in refusing to give it me. I made my bed, so there's the end of it. I am glad that you are here. The situation is in your hands, not mine." "What is there for me to do except to sit down, like you, and wait?" he groaned, in desperation. She was silent for a long time, evidently weighing her next remark. "What have you to say for your pet theory now, Braden?" she inquired, haltingly. "You may rest assured, Anne, that even were it legally possible, I should not put it into practice in this instance," he said coldly. Her face brightened. "Do you really mean it?" "I wish you and all the rest of them would understand that I am not setting myself up as a butcher—" he began hotly. "That is all I want to know," she cried, tremulously. "I have been dreading the—I have found myself wondering if _you_ would give him those tablets. Look me straight in the eye, Braden. You will not do that, will you?" "Never!" he exclaimed. "You don't know what that means to me," she said in a low voice. Again there was a long silence. He was studying her face, and queer notions were entering his brain. "Another question, please, and that is all. Can his life be prolonged by an operation?" "I am assured that he could not survive an operation." "He may ask you to—to perform one," she said, watching him closely. He hesitated. "You mean that he is willing to take the chance?" "I mean that he realises it will make no difference, one way or the other. The other doctors have refused to operate." "He will not ask me to operate," said Braden, but his soul shook within him as he spoke.