The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. ” “How dull you are,” the lady remarked. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped.
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