Of course, why not? She would be honest, anyhow! She turned her eyes to Manning. Between her and the fair, far prospect of freedom and self-development manoeuvred Mr. “My Mom was a good lady. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. I doubt I hold any interest for him anymore. Then her fingers moved. 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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