She took a deep breath. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. And I don’t. 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’ve had it, Sheila. ” “Check for yourself in the driveway. And in this fact lay his danger. In fact, one of them was downright sceptical. " CHAPTER XIII. " "Right," answered Ireton. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his dream.
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