He walked with bent head. Marvel, who was now quite dissolved in tears, "I shall never survive this scene. “You’re splendid!” said Teddy, with his hair wild in the wind. The clock struck half-past ten. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. 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.
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