” She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. Only her babe died. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. 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. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. ” John took his hand away. Wood, furiously. ” Part 6 Then, arising she knew not how, like a new-born appetite, came a craving in Ann Veronica for the sight and sound of beauty. And all to find that picture of Mary Remenham. ’ It seems that I was mistaken. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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