He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. He did not love Ruth. Shoplatch. 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. I am grateful, indeed I am. The great world outside! She stood motionless beside the trunk, deep in speculation; and thus the doctor found her.
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