“Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. There was no one to be seen. 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. ” “You are not a coward,” she repeated, “or you would not be my friend. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion.
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