And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. 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. ” His arms were around her. " Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's manner, he walked on.
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