Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. "And now, Mrs. 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. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture.
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