"Mr. “Everybody seems to have it now. " "He'll scarcely need a plaister," replied Mrs. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. We went to the Embassy. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. You understand. 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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