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. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw.
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