I didn’t understand before that letter. The Ragged Edge. "At the bottom of that big envelope I found this one. Still, one has to be reasonable. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. 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 was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. You think you will.
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