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. The theme was a masquerade. ” “I am not afraid,” she answered. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket. " Finding it useless to struggle further, Mr. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. “But I am your husband,” he said. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance.
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