“Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. His advice was mostly practical. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand. 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.
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