It may be, it probably will all come to, nothing. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. “I’m not gentle. . 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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