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. . " Neither man spoke. ‘And if it is true that you love me, I do not know why it is that you do not kiss me again at once. She understood. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. .
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