“I am just back from Paris. " "Glad to see you once more in the Mint, 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. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. But Jack did not heed them. .
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