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. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. ’ ‘Exactly so. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. But, after all, it will be different. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Let me keep you from that man’s clutches.
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