But in a moment she believed she understood. ” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. Critically, she stared at her own features. I'll tell you what. "Rather cramped, eh?" "Rather so, Sir," replied the other, altering his position. 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. Earles. He asked her whether she understood what she was saying, and went on to say still more precisely that she should never touch a penny of his money until she came home again—not one penny.
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