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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 blood will rest on your head. ” “For you. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up.
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