Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. ’ ‘When you begin to tell the truth,’ Gerald told her severely, ‘I shall be happy to believe you. It was decrepit and too large. 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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