She had agonized over it for weeks. 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. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week.
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