‘She knows them. I’m sorry. 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. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. She will cry for days and nights together.
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