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. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. Wood, I forget nothing. “It was not necessary,” Sir John answered stiffly. . She danced with two others.
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