" "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. ” He shrugged his shoulders. Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door. She’s taken my sword. 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. ’ ‘Consider me warned,’ said Gerald solemnly. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed.
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