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’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. Who were you looking for tonight? One of the émigrés? There were several in there. 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. Well, I told aunt. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. "Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth.
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