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’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. A. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. ’ Relief flooded Melusine. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. 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. . A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.
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