’ ‘Aye, sir,’ Kimble said at once, and took up his stance at the bottom of the stairs as Gerald dragged Melusine up them. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. 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 proffered her neck towards him. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case.
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