. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. They rose as she approached. . When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. 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. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. Brutes! They are the brute still with us! Science some day may teach us a way to do without them. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell.
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