Hill was seated. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. You've a good deal to go through to-night. 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. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house.
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