"Mercy!" screamed Mrs. Ramage came for her at her lodgings, and she met him graciously and kindly as a queen who knows she must needs give sorrow to a faithful liege. 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. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. ToC Saint Giles's Round-house was an old detached fabric, standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe.
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