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. Her desires were not for riches. Understanding the appeal, the man snatched his master's sword from his grasp, and passed it through Darrell's body. ” “You could never be that,” he answered, “but you are at least more serious than usual. Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard below. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing.
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