You must not, however, accompany me, Jack. 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. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded, reached it at the same time. Besides, she had admitted her identity. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish.
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