My nerves are shaken. 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. White gasped, and then stiffened. “Very well,” he said. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. I really must leave you now. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. She must not tell Martha about Gerald.
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