’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. If so, do not hesitate to tell me. “I’ll bring it to-morrow. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. I'll take them back with me. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. 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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