F. Harrison Ainsworth Internationale Bibliothek G M B H Berlin 1922 "Upon my word, friend," said I, "you have almost made me long to try what a robber I should make. 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 the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Wood and Winifred, Thames instantly followed the domestic, and found a man, with his face muffled up, at the door, as she had described. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere.
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