There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. ” “Why?” Mr. "I love her already. Passing thought. Ennison stood by her side. 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. Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison 258 V. ” “I said I was all right.
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