” She hesitated. Then she moved towards the door. ‘Wait for me. Jack Kimble. 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. . Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. ’ He took a pace forward, seizing the gun with one hand, while the other locked her arm so that he could forcibly wrest the weapon from her.
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