Then her fingers moved. He looked down and met them. “She told you that?” “Yes. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. 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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