Maggot, as well as her companion Edgeworth Bess, was showily dressed; nor did either of them disdain the aid supposed to be lent to a fair skin by the contents of the patchbox. 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 closed her mind on the possibility of finding out, and went on, ‘But me, I have been in a war, and I have won. He wondered if these abnormal mental activities presaged illness. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU.
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