What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. " "But I'm a poor man. Wait a second. E. 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. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. It was now a quarter past twelve. I can’t rest or work or settle down to anything while things are like this between you and me. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. But for me it doesn’t matter.
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