Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. 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. ” Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched teeth. You’re such a strange girl.
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