I said to myself, ‘this will come. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. "Plague on't!" added he: "I never meant to take your babby from you. He tells me that you will not even see him. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. “Well, anyhow, consider it open. I have had enough of your hysterical behavior. 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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