He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. She made an abrupt personal appeal. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. Oh the back of her arm she found the faintest down of hair in the world. 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. With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three.
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