” “Why?” asked Hetty. While he was thus employed a farming man came into the barn. “I didn’t blow up the house. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. She did not wince. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. 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. It was rigged up for the occasion as it has been many a time before.
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