Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place. ” “She has changed a good deal,” Anna admitted. 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. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. " "What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. ’ ‘Very true.
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