“Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked. Her head swam. Here would be the true test of his strength. 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. " "At least, I will hope so," returned Winifred. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. His eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy; he let out a sigh. ” He faced her doggedly. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool.
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