“I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. 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 she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. Do you live here?" "Not exactly," answered the carpenter. . Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. “You hear him?” he remarked, looking impressively around. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. ***** Coconuts grew perpetually. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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