Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. I’m sorry. He went in there, and he was in there for a good half hour. But, Gerald, do you believe there is a secret passage indeed?’ ‘Well, we covered every inch of the house and grounds, and I swear she never left that room by way of the door. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. 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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