It came again. ‘You are rude, and stupide, and altogether a person with whom I do not wish to speak. 9. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. 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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