A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. 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. ” John’s father added. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed himself. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. But it does not sound as if the girl that wears the name resembles either of her parents. “You!” she exclaimed. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. ‘I know you, Gerald. I did not even know where to write and thank you. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment.
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