"Oh, just part of a belief in the occult sympathy of the animal world
with humanity, which, indeed, I am by no means prepared to give up."
"I should think not!" said I.
"Though doubtless the idea that they feel and presage impending death
to man must be counted a fable."
"Awful rot!" was my comment. "I say, sir, I'm sure you're not well, to
get such stuff into your head."
"It's just that," said the Rector. "When I was a boy, I was far from
strong, and being rather bookish, I was constantly overworking my
head. What weird fancies and fads I had then, to be sure! I was
haunted by a lot of nervous plagues which it's best not to explain to
people who have never been tormented with them. One of the least
annoying was a sensation which now and then took possession of me
that everything I saw, heard, or did, was 'for the last time.' I've
often run back down a lane to get another glimpse of home, and done
over again something I had just finished--to break the charm! The old
childish folly has been plaguing me the last few days. It is strong on
me to-night."
"Then we'll talk of something else," said I.
Eventually our conversation became a religious one.
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