She kept her face downcast. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. 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. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame.
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