” She leaned forward for another kiss, which he responded to. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. 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. "This is not the way to obtain it," said Winifred, endeavouring to reach the door. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. “Mr. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes.
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