The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. 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. They troubled no one, and as long as they did not noise themselves abroad and make a nuisance of themselves in this Protestant country, no one troubled them. "It's like enough, I dare say," rejoined Sheppard. You don’t know. "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs.
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