He stepped back further. I suspect he has a bit of vanity. 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. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. "Not materially, Mr. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all.
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