’ ‘Which is exactly what started us off,’ Gerald said to his friend with a grin, as he gave up his injured hand to the other’s ministrations. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. She snatched about in her mind. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. 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.
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