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. But I can't account for it!" "At all events, you shall answer for it," thundered Wild, with a bitter imprecation. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. Those were dreams. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. “Everybody seems to have it now. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow.
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