"Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. I don’t think of you as a kid. Something seemed awry. ’ To Gerald’s relief, the entrance of the butler interrupted them, relieving him of the necessity to explain himself. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. 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.
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