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. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt.
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