With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. ” She shook her head. It was—in connection with this man Hill. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. He pumped as she raised her legs obediently. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do.
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