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. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like. "Then it is not too late to save him. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. “The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him. She hesitated. " "For an old bachelor?" "A human old bachelor. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked.
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