"What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. You're a queer lad. Because she states her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact that she is right. 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 tell me this instead. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey.
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