What isn’t a day-dream is this: that you and I are going to put an end to flummery—and go!” “Go!” said Ann Veronica, clenching her hands. ’ Looking round, she found the little coterie of soldiers crowded into the passage behind them. It looks so French to be affectionate. 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 refused to sign a petition in his behalf to the Recorder; not from any ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person whom I particularly dislike— Captain Darrell. I worshipped her and subdued myself.
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