She could not help but swoon a little. ” She thought more and more along that line. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. They were true noblemen, men of the court. “There is this absurd craving for Mr. Besides, by the time they were off his hands, old McClintock would be dropping in to have his liver renovated. 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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