“Never was such an age of transition. ’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. . “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. 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.
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