Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. " "Mr. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. ” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. 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.
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