Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. 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. . ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald.
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