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. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. I proved myself early as an athlete, skills I retained long after my return home. Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. “I am dying to renew my acquaintance with London, Mrs.
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