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. ” “Your knowledge of our ways,” he murmured “is profound. "Well, good night, Mr. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. The chamber rang with her shrieks. I don’t want to influence you unduly—But—They’re artistic people, Vee. She would ignore him. "What's all this?" exclaimed Wood in amazement. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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