CHAPTER XXIII. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. “I believe that I can give you great news. . ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. 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. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek.
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