She was always breaking rules, whispering
asides, intimating signals. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that
were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. Maggot was equipped in a
light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke,
and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. Part 4
But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed
her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with
its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped
furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and
had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. Sebastian drank deeply and quickly of her
blood. 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. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much
imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from
them. Old pupil.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 06:11:53