His eyes were closed. He’s the handle of life for you. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. But in a little while you will awake; and if there is a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day's work. 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. And yet he knew that his skill was equal to that of any fashionable practitioner in Hong-Kong. ” He went to the window and fidgeted with the blind, looking out to where the tree-tops of Regent’s Park showed distantly over the houses.
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