Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. 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 as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. ’ ‘Oh, you are, are you?’ said the nun, evidently not mollified, but she was forestalled. 58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. CHAPTER XXII. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. Q.
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