"Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. ” “I did not come,” she faltered. Kneebone began to dispense the fragrant fluid; begging Mrs. 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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