“Thank God,” he exclaimed. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. 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. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. She had been forced to buy herself that pair of boots and a walking-skirt, and the pearl necklace at the pawnbrokers’ had yielded very disappointingly. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. But, whether she likes it or not, I aim to be on hand to get her out of it. "Will you be mine!" "It's a very unfair advantage to take—very," replied Mrs. " "Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private.
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