\"What's in there?\" Lucy asked. The stores, the drying bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an exquisite landlocked lagoon. 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. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. She is known everywhere within the radius of five hundred miles.
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