‘Bête. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. 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. Her name is Lucia, she works in the Alberti Yarn Shop, across from Florestano the Butcher!” I happily rewarded her with a shiny new Florin and sent her off. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. So this is why I was chosen, because of the babies.
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