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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. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. " "It matters not, Norris," replied Lady Trafford: "I would rather die on the road, than be exposed to another such scene as I have just encountered. And I don’t. " He then spoke authoritatively to the girl. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds.
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