Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. 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. However, I daresay that we shall come across one another before long. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it.
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