And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. 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. " "Can't ve call for asshistanche?" "And who'll find us, if we do?" rejoined Wild, fiercely. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned.
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