"Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. ’ ‘What?’ uttered Gerald, startled. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. ” “I wish you would use my Christian name,” he said. 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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