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. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. Nevertheless Sydney, clumsily, but earnestly, had something to say about it. “We’ll go together. It was obvious that he had waited for her. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. " "Ay; but I do mind her," cried Jack upon whom his comrade's observation had produced the desired effect.
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